PERSONAL  MEMOIRS 

OF 

JOHN   H.  BRINTON 

Major  and  Surgeon  U.  S.  V. 
1861-1865 


Frontispiece  Portrait 


NEW  YORK 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
1914 


E 


?5 


Copyright,  1914  by 
The  Neale  Publishing  Company 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY  NOTE  BY  S.  WEIR  MITCHELL       .       9 
INTRODUCTION   BY  J.    H.   BRINTON  .      11 

CHAPTER 

I.— THE    OUTBREAK    OF    THE    WAR        ....      15 
The    awakening    of    Philadelphia — Warriors    all — The    ar 
rival  of  the  host — Family  councils — Brigade  Surgeon— First 
Impressions    of    Washington — Lincoln   and   the    ill-omened 
flag — Equipment  for  man  and  beast — Final  preparations. 

II.— LEAVING  HOME 31 

"Good-bye" — St.  Louis  in  1861 — Fremont  and  politics — Uni 
forms  and  authority — To  Cairo — First  meeting  with  Grant 
— Characteristics — Medical  Director  Simons. 

Ill— MOUND    CITY    HOSPITAL 40 

A  hospital  to  create — Mississippi  Turtles — Dirt  and  diffi 
culties — Plague  o'  men — Plague  o'  women — Lynch  law  at 
close  quarters — Vicissitudes  of  a  surgeon's  life — In  touch 
with  the  North — Watchwords  of  the  night. 

IV.— CAIRO,   1861 55 

Within  the  lines  on  the  Mississippi — Rebel  sketches — Ap 
pointment  of  Medical  Director  of  South  Eastern  Missouri — 
How  to  read  the  regulations — Helplessness  of  recruits — The 
problem  of  "Contract  Doctors" — Grant  again — Malaria. 

V.— THE    BATTLE   OF   BELMONT 71 

The  best  cure  for  malaria — A  battle  in  the  air — The  first 
shot  in  earnest — Bucephalus — Medical  director  in  the  field — 
"Grim  War"  and  its  victims — With  General  Grant  under 
fire — The  sound  of  a  bullet — Tragedies  of  the  wounded — 
Winning  the  "family  spurs" — Lost  in  the  enemy's  country. 

VI.— INCIDENTS  OF  THE  FIGHT 87 

Incidents  of  the  battle  of  Belmont — The  coward — Rigor 
mortis — Ghostly  news — The  making  of  a  surgeon — Strange 
adventures  of  a  box  of  instruments — Reports  of  a  medical 
director. 


974474 


6  Table  of  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

VII.— CAPE  GIRARDEAU,  MO.-CAIRO,  ILL.      .        .        75-85 
Cape  Girardeau,  Mo.— "Jef"  Thompson's  note  to  Grant— 
The    Fourth     Estate — Contraband    letters — Christmas    and 
New  Year's  in  the  field — McClernand's  expedition — Support 
from  General  Grant — A  river  skirmish. 

VIII.— ST.  LOUIS 107 

Board  duty  again — St.  Louis — Social  and  military  life — 
"Secesh"  sentiments— Grateful  patients— Back  to  Grant- 
To  Cairo. 

IX.— FORT  HENRY— FORT  DONELSON  .  .  .  .113 
Devastation  of  war — On  Grant's  staff  before  Donelson — 
Grant's  unerring  prophecy — Hospital  organization — Field 
surgery — A  question  of  precedence — A  sortie  by  the  enemy 
— Staff  equipment — The  beau  ideal  of  an  army  leader — Song 
of  the  shell. 

X.— INCIDENTS  OF  THE  SIEGE  OF  FORT  DONELSON  124 
Medical  problems — Removal  of  the  wounded — Overcrowd 
ing — Methodist  valor — Forty-five  shots — Warrior  surgeons 
— French  Frank  to  the  rear — "Fort  Donelson  will  surrender 
to-morrow" — A  historic  interruption — "No  terms  to  damned 
rebels" — Grant  under  suspicion — My  report  to  McPherson 
— Grant  and  the  relics — The  future  president  and  a  war 
doctor  dream  of  diplomacy — The  lamentable  catastrophe  of 
Gen.  Rawlins'  horse — Arrival  of  Nelson's  troops — Incidents 
on  field  and  water — A  "Secesh"  pony — A  question  of  per 
sonal  courage — Troubles  for  Grant — The  sword  from  his 
Belmont  Colonels — A  remarkable  occurrence — "Doctor, 
wherever  I  go,  I  want  you  to  come." 

XL— UP    THE    TENNESSEE 151 

In  search  of  food — My  friend  the  spy — Board  duty — Medi 
cal  director  of  the  Army  of  the  Tennessee — My  rebel  pris 
oner — Death  of  General  Smith — A  notable  American  officer 
— Sheridan  and  the  mint  juleps. 

XII.— AFTER    SHILOH    WITH    HALLECK        .        .        .162 
Bunking  with  "Captain"  Sheridan — Broken  bones — "Punch" 
in  the  field — Headquarters  advance  to  Corinth — Ordered  to 
Washington — Grant's  offer  to  take  me  on  his  military  staff 
— A  Philadelphia  welcome. 

XIII.— SURGICAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  REBELLION        .    169 
Board    duties — Beginning   of    the    surgical    history   of    the 
Rebellion — Examining  boards — Appearance  of  Washington 
— Hammond — Fortress  Monroe — Jamestown  and  inspection 
duty— McClellan  and  Grant. 


Table  of  Contents  7 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIV.— THE  SURGEON-GENERAL'S  OFFICE  .  .  .179 
Inception  of  the  army  medical  museum — The  Corcoran 
Building — Obtaining  specimens — Selection  and  transporta 
tion — Visits  to  the  field — The  contest  for  a  limb — Sidelights 
on  the  alcohol  problem — A  cure  for  whiskey  tapping — The 
varied  uses  of  cherry  brandy — Vicissitudes  of  the  museum. 

XV.— FORTUNES    OF    WAR 195 

On  duty  at  Alexandria — Medical  Director  of  transporta 
tion — Difficulties  and  demoralization — Plague  o'  nurses 
again — Halleck  the  dictator. 

XVI.— SOUTH    MOUNTAIN— ANTIETAM   ....    202 
Reorganization  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac — South  Moun 
tain  and  Antietam — Special  orders — Battlefield  hospitals — 
Rigor  mortis — English  visitors. 

XVII.— THE    FIRST    FREDERICKSBURG  ....    213 
Fredericksburg — Burnside  in  command — Court-house  surgery 
— Steeple  spying — The  aftermath  of  a  cannonade — Dismal 
scenes — "Bag  of  Bones" — The  Surgeon-General  in  the  field. 

XVIII.— VARIED  LABORS  .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .223 

Special  duties  at  Annapolis — Wounded  prisoners  from  the 
Southern  prison  pens — Hospital  gangrene  and  bromide  treat 
ment — Louisville  and  Nashville — Sheridan  again — With  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  once  more — The  President  to  Chan- 
cellorsville — Secret  orders — Figuring  the  losses. 

XIX.— GETTYSBURG 236 

After  Chancellorsville — Offensive  and  defensive  generals — 
Grant  and  Jomini — Gettysburg  after  the  fight — The  slough 
of  despond — The  trophy  scandal — Civilian  grave  diggers — 
Burying  dead  horses — German  greed — Field  burials — A 
martinet. 


XX.— OF    THINGS     MEDICAL    AND     MILITARY    AT 

WASHINGTON 247 

Washington  in  the  summer  of  '63 — The  Army  Medical 
Board — Strange  candidates — Kansas  autobiographies — "A 
passing  board  of  a  repeating  board" — The  hospital  register 
Visits  North — Washington  life. 

XXL— NO    ARMY    MEDICAL    SCHOOL— METROPOLI 
TAN  CLUB 257 

The  Army  medical  school — A  quietus  from  the  Secretary  of 
War — The  Metropolitan  Club  and  some  of  its  members — 
New  Year's,  1864 — Washington  society. 


8  Table  of  Contents 

CHAPTEB  PAGE 

XXII.— THE  PRESIDENT  AND  SOME  LESSER  DIGNI 
TARIES  265 

Lincoln  in  the  hospital — "But  how  about  the  soldiers ?"- 
General     Grant — Campaigning — To     Fredericksburg — Sani 
tary  commissioners — A  surgeon's  joke — With  Grant  again 
under  fire — Medical  purveyor  of  the  army. 

XXIII.— JAMES  RIVER  AND  CITY  POINT        .        .        .275 
White  House — James  River — Grant's  cabin  at  City  Point — 
General  Early  before  Washington — Field  scenes — Surgical 
history  again — Collecting  illustrations — Hammond's   trial — 
His  successor. 

XXIV.— SHERIDAN'S  CAMPAIGN  AND  FIELD  WORK    290 
In  charge  at  Winchester — Wanton  destruction — The  women 
still  once  more — Winchester — The  war  of  the  kettle — Sheri 
dan — Hospital  difficulties  and  successes — Ordered  to  Wash 
ington. 

XXV.— RELIEVED  FROM  DUTY  IN  SURGEON-GENER 
AL'S  OFFICE 307 

Relieved  from  the  Surgeon-General's  office— The  decapita 
tion  of  St.  Denis— Louisville,  Kentucky— Medical  director  to 
General  Rosecrans,  St.  Louis. 

XXVI.— LOUISVILLE— ST.  LOUIS— ROSECRANS'S  MIS 
SOURI  MARCH 3iS 

President  of  the  Army  Medical  Board— Political  prisoners 
— A  lover's  war  strategy  and  a  doctor's  intervention. 

XXVII.— ST.   LOUIS 322 

St.  Louis  society— General  Rosecrans— Departmental  diplo 
macies—Nashville,  Tennessee— Medical  director  of  hospitals 
— Prisoners — Mrs.  Polk — Hospital  mismanagement — Negro 
hospitals — Refugees. 

XXVIII.— LIFE  AT  NASHVILLE— LECTURES— HOME  .    342 
Life    at    Nashville— A    ghoul-like    duty— Military    medical 
lectures — Resignation — Final   preparations — Home. 

APPENDIX 353 

INDEX  359 


INTRODUCTORY     NOTE 

The  College  of  Physicians  of  Philadelphia;  the 'oldest 
medical  society  in  America,  had,  during  the  War  of  the 
Rebellion  and  up  to  1866,  an  average  of  186  fellows. 
Of  these,  fifty  held  commissions  in  the  regular  or  volun 
teer  service,  and  seven  in  the  navy. 

Among  those  early  commissioned,  in  1861,  was  John 
Hill  Brinton,  the  author  of  the  present  memoirs.  His 
story  does  not  relate  how  much  of  growing  surgical 
practice  and  successful  teaching  he  gave  up  to  serve  a 
great  cause.  Neither  he  nor  others  as  faithful  and  as 
distinguished,  expected  or  received  the  honors  which 
fell  to  officers  of  the  line.  No  statue  celebrates,  no 
commemorative  tablet  records  their  services.  These  men, 
who  were  not  less  busy  in  the  camps  than  in  battle,  suf 
fered  by  wounds,  disease,  and  prisons  as,  and  in  like 
proportion  with,  other  officers,  although  technically  re 
garded  as  non-combatants. 

In  the  front  rank  of  this  remarkable  list  of  surgeons, 
whose  only  records  are  their  permanent  contributions 
to  the  art  of  the  surgery  of  war,  was  the  man  who  tells 
here  his  story  of  the  war,  as  seen  from  the  position  of 
one  who  was  the  close  friend  of  General  Grant  through 
out  that  great  soldier's  life.  The  trials,  risks,  and  tri 
umphs  of  a  remarkable  army  career  as  a  surgeon  are  here 
related  in  a  simple,  direct  way,  and  cast  interesting  side 
lights  on  many  of  the  generals,  and  even  on  the  campaigns 
the  writer  saw. 

Soldiers    from   private   to    commander-in-chief   have 

9 


10  Introductory  Note 

related  their  personal  stones  of  the  great  war,  but  the 
physicians  who  served  have  nowhere  as  adequately  told 
their  side  of  unrewarded  peril  and  service  as  is  done  in 
the  notable  record  of  which  I  am  privileged  to  say  these 
introductory  words. 

John  K. 'Brintoh  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  May  21, 
1832.  ,Ke  was  graduated  from  the  University  of  Penn 
sylvania  in  1856  (from  which  institution  he  received 
the  degree  of  LL.D.  in  1901),  and  in  medicine  from  the 
Jefferson  College  in  1852.  Commissioned  Brigade  Sur 
geon,  U.  S.  Volunteers,  in  August,  1861,  he  became  under 
General  Grant  at  Cairo  his  trusted  medical  director.  He 
died  on  March  8,  1907. 

He  may  be  left  to  relate  the  story  of  his  army  life, 
of  his  connection  with  the  Surgical  and  Medical  His 
tory  of  the  War,  and  of  his  creation  of  the  Army 
Medical  Museum. 

His  later  life  as  the  competent  successor  in  the  chair 
of  surgery  of  Professor  S.  D.  Gross,  and  his  career  in 
surgical  practice,  will  be  elsewhere  told,  but  I  cannot 
close  this  brief  statement  without  a  word  of  what  he  was 
in  other  relations,  a  man  with  whose  friendship  I  was 
honored  for  two-thirds  of  my  life.  His  straightforward 
ways,  his  perfect  rectitude  in  every  social  relation,  a  cer 
tain  kindliness  and  simpleness,  won  for  him  the  esteem 
and  affection  of  the  many  whom  he  honored  with  his 
friendship,  while  his  unswerving  fidelity  to  every  duty, 
large  or  small,  was  an  example  of  what  my  profession 
may  make  of  a  man  who  brought  to  it  all  that  is  best  in 
the  way  of  the  character  of  a  well-bred  gentleman. 

S.  WEIR  MITCHELL. 


INTRODUCTION 

My  dear  Children: — 

My  book  is  finished;  the  illustrations  have  been  col 
lected  ;  I  have  everything  ready  to  go  to  the  bookbinders, 
— and  now  I  ask  myself  why  I  have  written  all  this.  The 
question  is  hard  to  answer,  at  all  events,  truthfully  and 
completely.  It  may  be  that  I  want  you  to  know  some 
thing  about  the  War. — No,  that  is  not  it;  it  is  not  the 
War,  for  that  no  doubt  you  can  find  in  the  books  and 
histories  which  are  being  written,  and  which  will  be 
written.  It  is  rather,  I  think,  that  I  want  you  to  know 
something  about  myself,  and  what  and  whom  I  saw,  and 
what  I  was  doing  during  those  four  years,  which  formed 
so  prominent  a  part  of  the  lives  of  the  men  of  that  day. 
For  you  must  know  that  then,  the  War,  to  all  of  us, 
was  everything,  it  was  all  in  all.  The  past  was  for 
gotten;  the  future  we  scarcely  dared  to  think  of;  it  was 
all  then  the  grim  present,  in  which  everyone  tried  to  do 
his  best,  and  in  which  almost  every  gentleman  felt  it 
his  duty  to  take  his  share.  Like  the  rest,  I  went  out, 
and  strangely  enough  happened  to  see  more  of  the  great 
men  of  the  War  than  often  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  medical 
man.  In  fact  my  "details  of  duty"  were  always  with 
the  generals,  the  great  generals  of  the  day,  and  in  high 
places,  and  I  was  thus  placed  in  daily  intercourse  with 
men  who  were  earning  for  themselves  illustrious  names. 
One  of  these,  whom  I  counted  my  friend,  afterwards 
became  one  of  our  nation's  greatest  men, — in  fact  he  was 
growing  great  when  I  knew  him,  making  for  himself, 

ii 


12  Introduction 

and  for  his  country,  history,  accomplishing  great  deeds, 
and  bringing  about  great  results  by  the  simple  plan  of 
doing  each  day's  duty  as  well  as  he  knew  how,  leaving  to 
the  Future  the  summing  up  of  his  work  and  trusting  to 
the  judgment  of  his  countrymen.  .You  will  guess  that 
I  am  speaking  of  General  Grant. 

Then  too,  with  Sheridan  and  Rosecrans,  I  was  on 
terms  of  friendship  and  lived  in  intimacy;  and  so  with 
McPherson,  whom  I  loved,  and  all  four  of  whom  I 
attended  professionally.  President  Lincoln  I  knew 
slightly,  and  visited  at  the  White  House,  and  Secretary 
of  War  Stanton,  and  Generals  Halleck,  Thomas  and 
Meade  I  knew  well,  and  many  others  whose  names  you 
may  meet  in  these  pages.  General  George  B.  McClellan, 
as  you  know,  was  my  first  cousin,  named,  perhaps,  after 
my  father,  as  well  as  after  his  own. 

To  the  next  generation  the  "War  of  the  Great  Re 
bellion"  will  be  almost  as  far  away  as  that  of  the  Revo 
lution,  or  the  French  War  of  '57,  or  the  Civil  War  of 
England,  or  the  Punic  Wars.  Yet  the  War  of  1861- 
1865,  the  "Scorpion  War,"  the  "War  between  the 
States,"  the  "Civil  War,"  "The  Rebellion,"  when  fought 
to  a  close,  accomplished  the  preservation  of  our  country, 
in  which  you,  my  descendants,  will,  I  hope,  be  privi 
leged  long  to  live  and  do  your  duty. 

Now  let  me  say  one  more  word  of  myself,  and  con 
fess  one  more  reason  for  the  writing  of  these  pages. 
You  remember  that  the  great  Mr.  Pickwick  (never 
forget  him)  on  a  memorable  occasion  said, — "He  (Mr. 
Pickwick)  would  not  deny  that  he  was  influenced  by 
human  passions  and  human  feelings,  possibly,  by  human 
weaknesses."  Now,  My  Dears,  like  that  great  man  I, 
too,  plead  guilty  to  human  passions  and  feelings  and 
weaknesses.  I  confess  to  you  that  I  wish  to  be  kindly 


Introduction  13 

thought  of  by  those  of  my  blood  who  may  follow  me, 
even  though  I  shall  never  know  them,  and  that  I  want 
you  to  feel  that  I  love  you  all  dearly,  born  and  unborn. 

Occasionally  I  have  (and  I  like  to  have)  queer  fancies, 
and  one  of  these  is  that  some  day  these  lines  and  this 
book  may  fall  into  some  fair  hands,  and  that  she  read 
ing  may  say  to  herself,  "He  was  a  nice  kindly  old 
fellow,  this  ancestor  of  mine,  I  wish  I  could  know  him." 
She  will  not  know  me,  but  I  shall  see  her  and  know  her, 
if  there  be,  as  I  believe  there  must  be,  both  knowledge 
and  vision  in  a  disembodied  spirit  from  another  sphere. 
Even  now  I  fancy  I  can  see  her  in  the  future,  a  dark 
haired  girl,  lounging  on  a  sofa,  half  dreaming  over 
my  pages.  I  imagine  I  can  almost  trace  her  features, 
and  touch  her  dress,  and  know  its  .colors.  My  Dear, 
try  and  believe  that  as  you  may  be,  when  you  read  this, 
I  see  you  now,  in  the  bright  month  of  June,  1891,  Sun 
day  the  1 4th. 

J.  H.  BRINTON. 

June  14,  1891. 


Personal   Memoirs  of  John   H. 
Brinton 

CHAPTER   I 

THE  OUTBREAK   OF   THE   WAR 

The  war  began,  with  the  flash  of  the  first  gun  fired  on 
Fort  Sumter,  in  Charleston  Harbor,  S.  C.,  on  Friday,  the 
1 2th  day  of  April,  1861.  From  that  moment  the  spirit 
of  the  North  changed,  discussion  ceased,  political  argu 
ments  were  at  an  end,  and  almost  absolute  unanimity 
prevailed,  the  only  question  was  how  best  to  establish 
the  supremacy  of  the  Government,  and  how  to  vindicate 
its  authority ;  in  short,  the  problem  was  how  to  preserve 
the  unity  and  majesty  of  the  Nation,  and  how  soonest 
to  trample  out  the  doctrines  of  disintegration  and 


"secession." 


I  well  remember  walking  down  Chestnut  Street,  in 
front  of  the  Continental  Hotel,  with  my  cousin  Brinton 
Coxe,  just  after  the  attack  on  Fort  Sumter  was  authen 
tically  announced  on  the  bulletin  boards.  The  effect  on 
the  people  was  instantaneous  and  indescribable.  For  the 
time,  or  rather  at  the  instant,  "mere  party  lines,"  as 
Mr.  Coxe  expressed  it,  "ceased  to  exist, — for  the  North 
had  become  a  Nation,  determined  to  fight  for  its  exist 
ence,  and  resolved  to  accomplish  its  salvation." 

The  North  now  prepared  for  war;  for  the  first  time 


16    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

it  realized  that  the  sword  was  the  only  umpire,  and  that 
on  it,  must  the  life  of  a  nation  depend.  Then  came 
the  first  call  for  troops,  the  proclamation  of  President 
Lincoln,  and  the  disastrous  battle  of  Bull  Run,  on  the 
2 ist  of  July,  1 86 1.  Business  of  every  kind,  at  all  events 
the  businesses  of  Peace,  were  disturbed.  The  spirit 
of  war,  or  the  spirit  of  patriotism,  call  it  which  you  will, 
seemed  to  seize  upon  all.  Men  became  fierce-minded, 
and  the  most  respectable  and  quiet-spirited  persons  were 
thus  affected.  Drill  companies  were  formed,  and  the 
mildest  individuals,  earnestly,  industriously  and  consci 
entiously  practiced  the  manual.  At  one  time  a  strange 
rumor  was  circulated  that  the  Southern  people  were 
about  to  march  on  Pennsylvania,  with  the  intention  of 
sacking  Philadelphia.  Our  citizens  rushed  to  arms,  and 
every  man,  young  and  old,  purchased  a  pistol, — a  re 
volver  if  he  could,  if  not,  a  pistol  of  some  description 
to  defend  his  altar  and  his  hearth-stone.  Everybody 
bought,  and  I  can  hardly  keep  from  laughing,  as  I  recall 
the  solemnity  with  which  the  subject  was  discussed  by 
solemn  men  in  my  profession,  and  how  advice  was  eag 
erly  sought  and  given,  as  to  where  to  procure  fire-arms. 
Pistols  went  up  in  price, — one  could  hardly  obtain  them; 
for  a  day  or  two  the  supply  was  exhausted.  I  remem 
ber  purchasing  one,  a  discreditable  looking  affair  with 
a  white  handle.  As  I  walked  away  from  the  shop,  I 
met  Dr.  John  Forsyth  Meigs,  who  had  just  purchased 
one  for  himself.  He  was  preeminently  a  man  of  peace, 
a  doctor  for  children  and  infants,  but  the  spirit  of  war 
had  seized  him  too.  My  pistol,  I  afterwards  exchanged 
for  the  navy  pattern  of  Colt's  revolver,  which  I  carried 
through  the  war,  and  which  I  never  discharged,  except 
at  a  mark.  Once  I  aimed  it  at  a  man  who  was  about 
to  shoot  me,  but  I  will  tell  you  of  this  later.  That  pistol 


The  Outbreak  of  the  War  17 

saved  my  life,  I  think,  so  I  do  not  regret  the  eleven  dol 
lars  I  paid  for  it. 

In  response  to  the  call  for  "three  months  men,"  mili 
tary  companies  were  hastily  formed  and  mustered  in. 
Young  men  everywhere  hastened  to  offer  themselves  to 
the  Government,  and  it  soon  came  about,  that  every 
young  fellow  you  met  was  on  his  way  to  active  service. 
They  went  in  every  capacity,  as  company  officer,  staff 
officer,  quarter  master,  pay  master,  commissary  of  sub 
sistence,  and  in  fact,  in  whatever  position  or  grade  they 
could  obtain  appointments. 

I  remember  very  distinctly  in  these  early  days  of  the 
war,  meeting  on  one  occasion  at  the  corner  of  Tenth  and 
Spruce  Streets,  a  young  Friend,  a  very  pearl  of  neatness, 
and  a  man  well  known  in  social  life.  He  was  carefully 
picking  his  way  across  the  muddy  street,  mentally  ab 
sorbed  in  preserving  the  cleanliness  of  his  boots.  Look 
ing  up,  he  saw  me,  and  called  out,  "Dr.  Brinton,  will 
you  kindly  stop  one  moment.  I  want  to  ask  you  a  ques 
tion.  Perhaps  you  can  give  me  some  information.  Can 
you  tell  me  what  a  'commissary  of  subsistence'  is?  I 
have  just  been  appointed  one,  and  I  have  not  an  idea 
as  to  the  duty  of  that  officer.  Can  you  tell  me  anything 
about  it?"  This  gentleman,  then  so  ignorant,  after 
wards  greatly  distinguished  himself  in  that  branch  of 
the  service. 

Like  the  rest  of  the  men  of  my  age,  I  soon  began  to 
feel  restless  at  home*.  I  felt  that  I  was  not  doing  my  full 
duty;  that  home  was  now  no  place  for  me.  Yet  as  an 
only  son,  upon  whom  rested  the  business  cares  of  the 
family,  I  dreaded  to  speak  to  my  dear  Mother  on  the 
subject.  She  may  have  guessed  my  feelings;  at  all 
events  she  spoke  first ;  and  one  evening  she  surprised  me 
by  saying  to  me,  "My  dear  son,  do  you  not  think  that 


18    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

you  ought  to  be  out  with  the  army,  doing  what  share 
you  can  for  the  country?"  When  I  expressed  my  great 
desire  to  go,  she  added  "that  she  was  glad  of  it,  as  she 
had  almost  felt  grieved  that  I  had  not  gone  before."  So 
the  way  was  made  easy  for  me  to  enter  the  service. 

I  naturally  determined  to  go  in  my  professional  ca 
pacity,  and  I  therefore  decided  to  enter  the  Corps 
of  "brigade  surgeons,"  a  grade  of  medical  officers  cre 
ated  by  an  act  of  Congress,  approved  July  22nd,  1861. 
By  a  later  act  of  Congress,  approved  July  2nd,  1862, 
brigade  surgeons  were  thereafter  to  be  known  as  "sur 
geons  of  volunteers,"  and  were  attached  to  the  General 
Medical  Staff,  under  the  direction  of  the  Surgeon  Gen 
eral. 

In  order  to  be  eligible  to  the  position  of  brigade 
surgeon,  it  was  necessary  to  pass  an  examination  before 
a  board  of  medical  officers  of  the  regular  army,  and, 
on  their  favorable  report,  to  receive  the  appointment  with 
the  approval  of  the  Senate.  On  the  i8th  of  June,  1861, 
I  made  application  to  the  Surgeon  General  for  per 
mission  to  present  myself  for  examination  for  the  grade 
of  brigade  surgeon  about  to  be  created,  for  although 
the  act  creating  that  grade  had  not  yet  been  passed,  it 
was  well  known  that  it  would  be  passed,  and  all  prepa 
rations  were  made  to  fill  promptly  the  future  positions. 
In  a  few  days,  I  received  a  reply  from  the  Surgeon 
General,  dated  June  2Oth,  1861,  directing  me  to  apply 
to  the  Secretary  of  War  for  the  necessary  permit.  This 
I  did,  and  having  received  the  requisite  authorization,  I 
went  to  Washington,  for  my  examination,  on  or  about 
July  3rd,  1861.  I  was  not  kept  long  in  waiting,  the 
examination  which  was  chiefly  a  written  one  was  not 
very  rigid,  and  at  its  conclusion  I  was  informed  that 


The  Outbreak  of  the  War  19 

the  result  was  satisfactory,  and  that  I  might  return  home 
and  await  my  commission. 

During  this,  my  first  visit  to  Washington,  I  stopped  at 
Willard's  Hotel,  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  near  the 
treasury  building.  The  city  was  crowded,  the  hotels 
filled  to  overflowing.  People  of  all  sorts  were  rush 
ing  busily  about,  and  the  weather  was  very  warm.  Ac 
tive  preparations  for  the  coming  war  were  being  made 
on  all  sides.  At  the  same  time  there  appeared  to  be  a 
lack  of  confidence.  Matters  were  apparently  in  a  cha 
otic  state:  the  sympathy  for  the  North  was  not  strong 
or  widespread, — on  the  contrary  the  sympathy  of  many 
of  those  who  lived  in  Washington  was  directed  towards 
the  South.  It  seemed  to  be  generally  expected,  if  indeed 
not  wished  for,  that  the  southern  states  would  win,  and 
succeed  in  their  attempt  to  withdraw  from  the  union, 
and  thus  overthrow  the  national  government.  Exag 
gerated  accounts  of  the  organization,  discipline,  and 
forward  state  of  preparation  of  the  southern  states  came 
from  every  quarter,  and  the  names  of  their  political  and 
military  leaders  were  on  many  lips.  Against  this  chilling 
state  of  despondency,  and  unbelief  in  the  stability  of  our 
Government,  the  administration  was  stoutly  struggling, 
as  but  few  Washingtonians  trusted  the  President,  or 
expected  that  any  good  would  come  through  such  a 
"Nazarene."  His  jestures,  manners,  mode  of  speech, 
and  deportment,  were  ridiculed,  and  few,  if  any,  could 
believe  that  a  great  man  stood  in  their  midst.  Disaffec 
tion  stalked  everywhere,  and  a  sense  of  isolation  had  ap 
parently  crept  over  those  who  administered,  and  those 
who  believed,  in  the  national  government.  The  inci 
dents  of  the  hour,  too,  were  disheartening.  Of  one  of 
these  I  was  a  witness. 

It  had  been  announced  that  on  the  afternoon  of  the 


20    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

4th  of  July,  the  President,  surrounded  by  his  cabinet, 
would  publicly  hoist  the  flag  of  the  United  States  on  a 
high  flagpole,  planted  in  the  grounds  in  the  rear  of  the 
White  House.  The  hour  arrived,  and  a  large  crowd 
had  gathered  to  witness  the  ceremony.  The  day  had 
been  warm,  and  in  the  afternoon  a  heavy  shower  of 
rain  had  set  in.  The  President  and  his  suite  stood 
under  a  tent,  or  marquee,  which  surrounded  the  base  of 
the  flagpole.  By  the  side  of  the  pole,  an  opening  had 
been  made  in  the  canvas  roof,  intended  to  be  sufficiently 
large  to  allow  the  great  flag  of  the  stars  and  stripes 
to  be  hoisted  through  it.  As  soon  as  the  usual  speeches 
were  concluded,  President  Lincoln,  grasping  the  hal 
yards,  pulled  them  vigorously.  Up  went  the  flag.  It  was 
a  tight  fit,  but  by  sheer  strength,  the  President  hoisted  it 
through  the  opening,  and  it  slowly  rose  above  the  tent 
roof.  According  to  every  poetic  and  patriotic  inspira 
tion,  it  should  have  unfurled  and  fluttered  in  the  breeze. 
This  it  did  not  do.  The  heavy  rain  caused  it  to  dangle, 
and  hang  limp,  and,  what  was  worse,  a  projecting  nail 
caught  in  the  "union,"  and  as  the  flag  went  wearily  up, 
a  strip  of  blue  bunting,  charged  with  eleven  white  stars, 
was  ripped  out,  and  fell  helplessly  downwards  to  the 
roof.  But  the  President  could  see  nothing  of  this,  and 
feeling  the  resistance,  tugged  away  all  the  more  man 
fully,  until  the  torn  strip  was  freed  and  was  dragged 
upwards,  hanging  from  the  body  of  the  flag.  The  eleven 
stars,  the  emblems  of  the  eleven  seceding  states,  thus 
torn  from  their  "Union  Firmament"  seemed,  in  very 
truth,  a  sorry  omen  to  those  who  stood  anxiously  watch 
ing.  For  my  own  part,  I  turned  away  shuddering,  al 
most  overcome  by  a  superstitious  horror  and  fear.  I 
saw  all  this  take  place,  but  I  am  not  aware  that  any 


The  Outbreak  of  the  War  21 

newspaper  notice  or  publicity  was  given  to  the  occur 
rence. 

On  that  same  evening,  I  returned  home,  and  in  a 
few  days  learned  from  a  private  source  that  I  had 
passed  my  examination  satisfactorily,  and  in  proper  time 
would  be  commissioned.  Mr.  Thomas  A.  Scott  was  act 
ing  Secretary  of  War,  and  Mr.  Leslie,  who  was  a  friend, 
and  an  assistant,  of  Mr.  Scott,  was  a  relative  or  con 
nection  of  my  friend,  Dr.  William  Thomson,  from 
whom  I  learned  the  little  secret  of  my  commission  before 
it  was  fairly  due.  It  is  the  history  of  all  courts,  royal 
and  republican,  that  very  many  feet  tread  up  and  down 
the  back  stairs. 

The  month  of  July  dragged  slowly  on,  and  every 
where,  throughout  the  North  and  the  South,  troops  were 
being  mustered  in.  On  April  I4th,  President  Lincoln 
issued  his  call  for  75,000  volunteers;  early  in  May  more 
than  200,000  had  been  called  for;  and  immediately  after 
the  battle  of  Bull  Run  in  Virginia,  Congress  ordered  a 
call  for  500,000  more.  At  the  same  time,  Congress  made 
an  appropriation  of  $500,000,000  to  meet  the  expense  of 
the  Army  and  Navy. 

And  now,  let  me  tell  you  something  about  the  Battle 
of  Bull  Run,  which  was  fought  on  July  2ist,  1861.  For 
some  weeks  the  Confederate  Generals  had  been  busily 
collecting  their  forces,  and  had  massed  them  at  Bull 
Run  (I  use  the  common  name),  thus  directly  threaten 
ing  Washington.  The  troops  of  the  United  States  had 
meanwhile  been  hurried  on  from  the  North,  and  were 
stationed  at  and  near  Washington,  prepared  to  attack 
the  Southern  army.  Early  on  the  morning  of  the  2ist 
of  July  (Sunday)  the  Federal  forces  moved  forward, 
and  encountered  the  Confederates  near  what  was  known 
as  the  Stone  Bridge,  at  Manassas,  or  Bull  Run.  A  sharp 


22    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

fight  took  place  which  ended  in  a  panic-stricken,  dis 
graceful  retreat  of  the  United  States  Army  back  to 
Washington,  with  a  loss  of  four  or  five  hundred  killed, 
and  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  wounded.*  As  usually 
happened  in  a  rout  of  this  kind,  the  defeated  parties 
spread  the  most  exaggerated  account  of  the  number  and 
bravery  of  their  foes,  and  the  entire  country  was  soon 
ringing  with  the  terrible  stories  of  the  fierce  Virginia 
Cavalry,  "The  Black  Horse  Cavalry,"  as  they  were 
styled,  and  the  prowess  of  the  Southern  forces. 

General  Winfield  Scott  was  at  this  time  in  command 
of  the  army  of  the  United  States  with  the  rank  cf 
Lieutenant  General.  His  original  entry  into  service  was 
in  1808,  as  captain  of  light  artillery.  He  was  a  Vir 
ginian,  and  appointed  from  his  native  state,  and  was  at 
this  time,  therefore,  very  old,  but  was  looked  upon,  both 
in  and  out  of  the  army,  as  a  good  soldier,  and  enjoyed 
a  high  reputation  due  to  his  conduct  of  the  Mexican 
war.  He  doubtless  was  in  his  time  a  good  soldier, 
though  very  fond  of  military  ostentation,  for  which  he 
was  sometimes  nicknamed  "old  fuss  and  feathers."  His 
plans  for  the  advance  of  the  Union  army  would  seem 
to  have  been  well  laid,  but  his  troops  were  new  levies, 
and  his  orders  were  imperfectly  carried  out.  On  ac 
count  of  his  advanced  age,  General  Scott  remained  in 
Washington,  and  did  not  participate  in  the  active  move 
ments  of  the  army. 

I  am  afraid  that  some  of  the  troops  of  the  North 
behaved  in  this  battle  in  a  rather  shabby  manner,  and 
it  may  be  that  if  the  Southern  generals  had  pushed 

*Federal  losses  were  460  killed  and  1,124  wounded;  the  Confed 
erate  losses  were  387  killed  and  1,582  wounded.  Total  number  of 
troops  engaged,  Federal  30,000  and  43  guns ;  Confederate  18,500  and 
55  guns. 


The  Outbreak  of  the  War  23 

boldly  on  to  Washington,  they  might  have  taken  the 
capital.*  Fortunately,  they  did  not  do  so,  but  halted 
where  they  were,  fearing  to  advance.  So  the  army  was 
safe  in  Washington,  and  immediate  steps  were  taken 
to  protect  the  capital  from  an  attack.  Earthworks  and 
forts  were  hastily  erected,  cannon  were  planted,  and 
fresh  troops  were  called  for,  and  hurried  down  from 
the  northern  states.  I  nearly  went  to  Washington  at 
this  time,  for  on  the  night  following  the  battle  of  Bull 
Run,  an  order  was  sent  to  Philadelphia  to  hasten  for 
ward  any  soldiers  who  might  be  available  for  immediate 
service.  A  regiment,  the  28th  Pennsylvania  Volunteers, 
was  being  recruited  at  this  time  by  Colonel  John  W. 
Geary  f  (who,  after  the  war,  was  elected  Governor  of 
Pennsylvania),  of  which  Hector  Tyndale  was  Major. 
A  surgeon  was  wanted  for  the  regiment  and  Major 
Tyndale  applied  to  Prof.  Joseph  Pancoast  for  the  name  of 
some  medical  man  who  would  volunteer  in  that  capacity. 
My  name  was  suggested,  and  accordingly  Major  Tyn 
dale  rang  me  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  know 
whether  I  would  accept  the  position.  I  told  him  that  I 
expected  an  appointment  from  Washington,  but  that  in 
the  emergency  I  would  go  with  his  regiment.  He  told 
me  to  be  ready  to  start  the  next  day  and  I  promised  to 
do  so.  On  the  morrow,  it  was  found  that  the  regi 
ment  was  not  sufficiently  armed  to  be  of  service,  and 

*  However,  Gen.  Joseph  E.  Johnston,  the  Confederate,  states 
"Our  army  was  more  disorganized  by  victory  than  that  of  the 
United  States  by  defeat."  E.  T.  S. 

This  and  subsequent  footnotes  bearing  the  same  initials  are 
from  the  pen  of  Edward  T.  Stuart,  Esq.,  of  Philadelphia,  a  high 
authority  on  the  Civil  War,  who  also  very  kindly  rendered  valuable 
assistance  in  the  editing  of  the  original  manuscript. — Ed. 

tCommonly  called  "the  Marshal  Ney  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac."  E.  T.  S. 


24    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

orders  were  issued  from  Washington  to  delay  starting 
for  a  day  or  two  until  proper  and  sufficient  arms  could 
be  furnished.  In  the  meantime,  I  received,  as  I  have 
already  stated,  an  indirect  communication  from  the  war 
department,  informing  me  of  my  appointment  as  brigade 
surgeon.  Under  the  circumstances,  I  determined  to 
await  my  commission  at  home,  and  transferred  my  ap 
pointment  as  surgeon  of  Colonel  Geary's  regiment  to 
Dr.  Ernest  Goodman,  who  went  out  with  this  com 
mand  and  remained  with  it,  doing  good  service,  until 
much  later  in  the  war  when  he  entered  the  staff  corps 
of  surgeons  of  volunteers.  My  commission  as  brigade 
surgeon,  issued  on  August  8,  1861,  to  bear  date  from 
August  3rd,  reached  me  in  the  latter  days  of  that  month. 

The  news  of  the  Battle  of  Bull  Run  created  a  deep 
sensation  throughout  the  north.  For  the  first  time,  it  was 
realized  that  we  were  entering  upon  war  in  dead  ear 
nest,  and  that  our  southern  foes  intended  to  fight  to 
the  best  of  their  ability.  It  became  only  too  plain  that 
the  work  we  had  undertaken  was  a  most  serious  one, 
and  that  the  resources  of  the  loyal  portion  of  the  country 
would  be  severely  taxed.  No  one  could  doubt  that  the 
war  would  be  a  long  one;  how  long,  no  one  could  tell.* 
A  few  enthusiasts  believed  that  the  government  would 
crush,  "stamp  out,"  as  it  was  phrased,  the  rebellion,  in 
a  little  while,  but  the  more  thoughtful  realized  the  ter 
rible  earnestness  of  the  South,  and  recognized  the  mili 
tary  ability  of  their  leaders  and  generals. 

And  here  I  must  tell  you,  that  when  the  wave  of 
secession  rolled  over  the  South,  carrying  with  it  all 

*Gen.  Winfield  Scott  declared  that  conquest  of  the  South  might  be 
achieved  "in  two  or  three  years,  by  a  young  and  able  general, — a 
Wolfe,  a  Desaix,  a  Hoche,  with  300,000  disciplined  men  kept  up  to 
that  number."  E.  T.  S. 


The  Outbreak  of  the  War  25 

doubting  souls,  few,  very  few,  remained  loyal  citizens, 
and  these  dared  not  speak,  but  could  only  cling  in  silence 
to  their  opinions.  Before  the  war,  the  South  was  largely 
represented  in  our  army,  the  profession  of  arms  was 
attractive  to  those  from  that  section,  and  their  young 
men  sought  more  eagerly  than  those  of  the  North,  a 
West  Point  education  and  a  commission  in  the  reg 
ular  service.  So  when  the  lines  were  strictly  drawn, 
and  secession  was  fairly  entered  upon,  the  officers  of 
the  old  army  generally  went  with  their  respective  states. 
It  happened,  therefore,  that  in  organizing  the  army  of 
the  confederate  states,  it  was  well  supplied  with  trained 
officers,  who  had  received  a  military  education.  Many 
of  the  officers  of  the  old  army  of  the  United  States 
left  it  with  regret.  They  remained  in  it  until  their 
states  had  formally  seceded,  when  they  resigned  their 
commissions,  and  followed  their  state  flags.  Having 
once  entered  upon  their  new  positions,  they  fought 
bravely  and  well,  and  sustained  the  cause  of  secession 
until  it  fell  from  absolute  exhaustion. 

The  immediate  effect  of  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  was 
to  elate  the  spirit  of  the  South  and  to  create  a  correspond 
ing  condition  of  depression  in  the  North.  In  Phila 
delphia,  many  took  a  most  gloomy  view  of  the  situa 
tion;  thus,  I  remember  a  thoughtful,  cool-headed  man 
(the  late  Prof.  Joseph  Pancoast)  at  that  time  saying 
to  me,  "Doctor,  no  one  can  tell  how  all  this  will  end; 
it  will  surely  last  ten  years  or  more ;  and  possibly  neither 
you  nor  I  may  live  to  see  the  end  of  it." 

Yet  there  were  some  who  could  see  farther  into  the 
bank  of  the  war-cloud.  I  can  hear  now  the  words  of 
my  Mother,  and  see  the  earnest  expression  of  her  face, 
as  she  came  to  my  room  door,  early  on  the  morning 
after  the  defeat  at  Bull  Run,  and  told  me  the  result, — 


26    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  II .  Brinton 

that  our  troops  had  been  put  to  flight,  and  that  the  rebels 
were  triumphant.  "It  is  far  better,"  she  said,  "that  it 
should  be  so,  my  son,  for  the  war  will  go  on  now  until 
the  end  shall  be  reached,  and  the  curse  of  slavery  wiped 
away.  If  our  troops  had  won,  it  could  not  have  been 
so,  but  now  the  war  must  go  on.  It  will  cost  more 
lives,  but  the  end  will  be  more  sure."  She  was  indeed 
right  in  her  judgment. 

Now  that  I  was  sure  of  my  appointment,  I  busied 
myself  in  making  ready  for  my  future  service,  con 
cerning  which  my  ideas  were  very  vague.  Where  it 
would  be,  or  what  it  would  be,  I  could  not  tell,  but  I 
pictured  to  myself  all  sorts  of  hardships,  and  so  waited 
anxiously  to  know  how  my  military  life  would  begin. 
Before  very  long,  the  list  of  brigade  surgeons  was  pub 
lished,  and  I  was  well  satisfied  in  my  grade,  being 
fourth  on  the  list,  the  first  four  names  standing  thus : 

George  H.  Lyman,  of  Massachusetts. 

Frank  H.  Hamilton,  of  New  York. 

Henry  S.  Hewitt,  of  Connecticut,  appointed  from  New 
York. 

J.  H.  Brinton,  of  Pennsylvania. 

Dr.  Hamilton  had  been  a  professor  in  New  York, 
and  was  a  brother-in-law  of  the  chairman  of  the  Senate 
Committee  on  Military  Affairs;  Dr.  Hamilton  was  dis 
tinguished  as  a  professor  of  surgery,  and  the  author  of  a 
treatise  on  "Fractures  and  Dislocations,"  and  Dr.  Hewitt 
had  been  an  ex-assistant  surgeon  U.  S.  A.,  who  had 
entered  the  corps  of  brigade  surgeons — so  I  had  no 
reason  to  be  dissatisfied. 

I  may  add  that  on  the  nth  of  June,  1862,  Dr.  Lyman 
was  made  a  medical  inspector  with  the  rank  of  Colonel, 
and  on  the  gth  of  February,  1863,  Dr.  Hamilton  was 

promoted  to  the  same  rank.     For  the  rest  of  the  war, 


The  Outbreak  of  the  War  27 

Dr.  Hewitt  was  the  Senior  "surgeon  of  volunteers/* 
and  I  was  second.  After  a  short  western  experience  of 
a  most  friendly  nature,  we  two  concluded  that  it  was  not 
well  for  us  to  be  placed  in  the  same  command.  By  keep 
ing  apart,  both  of  us  thus  secured  the  full  value  of  our 
leading  positions  in  the  corps  of  surgeons  of  volunteers. 

Although  my  appointment  as  given  in  the  army  reg 
ister  dates  from  August  3rd,  1861,  my  commission  did 
not  reach  me  until  the  end  of  August.  The  interval  I 
occupied  in  making  my  final  preparations.  I  had  to 
bring  my  teachings  to  a  close,  and  to  care  for  the  preser 
vation  of  my  anatomical  possessions.  The  former  was 
easily  done  as  the  southern  students  had  ceased  to  come 
north,  and  those  who  had  been  here  had  returned  to 
their  homes.  As  for  the  northern  students,  for  the 
most  part,  they  were  hurrying  off  to  the  war  in  different 
capacities.  Then,  too,  I  had  to  arrange  to  leave  the 
affairs  of  our  family  estate  in  such  a  condition  that  they 
could  be  administered  by  my  mother  in  my  absence,  and 
moreover,  to  procure  my  outfit,  consisting  of  my  uni 
form,  blankets,  and  all  the  accoutrements  for  "man  and 
horse." 

Above  all,  I  must  think  of  my  future  steed,  and 
diligently  I  sought  him.  Particularly  do  I  recall  a  very 
black,  broken  kneed  animal  offered  to  me  by  a  quite 
respectable  gentleman.  The  horse  had  considerable 
action,  with  a  very  arched  neck.  In  the  innocence  of 
my  heart,  I  think  I  would  have  bought  him,  had  not 
my  good  friend,  honest  John  Ellis,  whose  stable  was 
in  the  rear  of  our  house,  kindly  whispered  to  me  "Let 
him  alone";  I  did  so,  and  in  doing  so  probably  saved 
myself  a  broken  neck. 

And  then  I  tried,  too,  a  quite  fierce  animal,  also 
black,  with  very  large  feet.  They  said  he  was  up  to 


28    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

my  weight.  I  think  he  was,  for  as  I  recall  him,  I  feel 
sure  that  he  would  have  proved  a  most  serviceable  beast 
in  a  brewer's  dray.  Good  horses  were  just  then  greatly 
sought  in  Philadelphia,  so  fortunately  I  waited.  My 
uniform  I  purchased  at  Hughes  and  Miiller;  tailors  in 
Chestnut  Street.  It  was  very  satisfactory,  and  the 
reinforcement  of  the  breeches  for  riding  was  stupendous. 
When  I  afterwards  came  to  wear  these  reinforced 
breeches,  I  felt  as  if  a  quilt  had  been  placed  between 
myself  and  the  saddle. 

My  blankets,  I  recollect,  were  deep  blue,  well  dyed, 
and  of  extraordinary  size.  I  bought  them  at  a  whole 
sale  store  in  Market  Street  below  9th.  I  heard  of  the 
place  from  Arthur  McClellan,  who  was  fitting  up  at  this 
time,  for  his  brother's  *  staff.  These  blankets  proved  to 
be  excellent,  and  I  used  them  until  after  the  battle  of 
Shiloh,  when  I  was  ordered  east.  Then  I  parted  with 
them,  expecting  easily  to  find  their  counterparts.  But 
alas!  when  I  reached  Washington,  I  found  that  the 
reign  of  shoddy  had  begun,  and  in  vain  might  I  search 
the  loyal  cities  for  a  pair  of  honest  blankets. 

My  saddle  and  horse  equipments,  I  bought  of  Lacey  & 
Phillips,  the  leading  harness  makers  of  the  city.  The 
saddle,  of  capacious  size,  was  of  the  "McClellan"  pat 
tern,  in  which  the  rider  sat  much  as  a  two-pronged 
fork  would  straddle  a  round  stick.  He  could  not  readily 
fall  off,  and  yet  it  could  not  be  said  that  he  had  any 
thing  of  a  seat.  This  saddle,  I  afterwards  exchanged 
for  a  "Jennifer"  saddle,  modeled  after  one  designed  by 
Captain  Nolan  of  the  I3th  Hussars  of  the  British  Army, 
who  was  conspicuous  in  the  Crimean  War  and  who 
was  the  "some  one  who  blundered"  in  the  charge  of  the 
light  brigade  at  Balaklava. 

*  Major-General  George  Brinton  McClellan. 


The  Outbreak  of  the  War  29 

During  all  this  time  of  waiting,  I  was  impatiently 
anxious  as  to  where  I  would  be  ordered.  I  hoped  to 
be  assigned  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  to  the  com 
mand  of  which  my  cousin,  George  B.  McClellan,  was 
appointed  July  27th,  1861,  and  I  learned  afterwards  that 
General  McCall,  a  personal  friend,  whom  I  had  known 
at  the  Academy  of  Natural  Sciences,  and  also  General 
Franklin,  had  both  been  good  enough  to  express  a  wish 
that  I  might  be  assigned  to  duty  with  them.  I  had  yet 
to  learn  the  lesson  that,  to  a  soldier,  especially  in  times 
of  active  service,  it  should  not  matter  what  his  detail 
of  duty  may  be.  A  riper  experience  and  the  counsel 
of  men  old  in  the  service,  before  long  taught  me  that 
the  surest,  and  most  often  the  greatest  success,  is  ob 
tained  by  prompt  and  cheerful  obedience  to  orders;  and 
that  in  military  life,  it  is  utterly  useless  to  attempt  to 
arrange  matters  to  suit  one's  comfort  or  personal  con 
venience.  Chance,  or  rather  let  me  say  providence,  so 
orders  events,  and  so  baffles  human  plans,  that,  as  an 
old  officer  once  told  me,  "It  often  happened  that  orders 
sought  for,  ended  in  regrets." 

You  can  understand,  that  dreaming  nothing  of  all  this, 
I  was  quite  annoyed  to  receive  this  my  first  order: 

[SPECIAL  ORDERS— No.  238] 

War  Department,  Adjutant  General's  Office, 

Washington,  September  4,  1861. 

3.     The   following  Brigade   Surgeons   are  assigned  to 
duty  as  noted  below,  and  will  report  accordingly : 
Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton,  to  Maj.  Gen'l.  J.  C.  Fremont, 
U.  S.  A.,  Commanding  Dept.  of  the  West. 
By  Order 

(Signed)     L.  THOMAS, 

Adjutant  General. 
Surg.  Brinton. 


30    Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

General  Fremont's  Headquarters  were  at  this  time 
at  St.  Louis,  and  with  a  heavy  heart  I  set  out  to  report 
to  him.  St.  Louis  seemed  to  me  then  to  be  very  far 
away,  and  the  accounts  which  had  then  reached  us  from 
the  west  of  events  past,  and  threatening  to  happen,  were 
of  a  most  unromantic  and  blood-curdling  character. 


CHAPTER   II 

LEAVING   HOME 

I  remember,  as  it  were  only  yesterday,  my  final  pack 
ing  up,  my  leaving  home,  and  the  good-bye  to  all  at 
the  old  house,  1423  Spruce  Street.  Even  now,  as  I 
think  of  it,  it  seems  as  if  I  were  going  over  it  again. 
I  see  my  dear  Mother  and  my  sisters,  and  I  hear  the 
"God  bless  you,  my  son,"  and  the  quiet  leave  taking, 
as  I  turned  away  to  the  carriage  in  waiting  to  take  me 
to  the  depot  of  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad,  which  was 
then  at  nth  and  Market  Streets,  where  the  Bingham 
House  now  stands.  My  luggage  was  a  sole  leather  trunk, 
with  a  big  canvas  cover,  under  which  were  nicely 
strapped  my  blankets,  and  on  the  outside,  my  buffalo 
robe  and  gum  blanket.  I  was  in  fatigue  uniform,  a 
blue  sack  coat  with  brass  buttons,  and  major's  straps, 
blue  trousers  with  gold  cord  down  the  side,  a  "regular 
army"  falling  cap,  with  a  gold  wreath,  and  a  glazed 
cover,  very  different  indeed  from  the  smart  French  kepi, 
which  afterwards  came  into  vogue,  but  which  I  never 
fancied,  and  never  wore. 

I  took  to  the  regular  army  from  the  start ;  I  had  seen 
considerable  of  the  medical  staff  of  the  old  army,  as 
Dr.  J.  M.  DaCosta  and  I  had  for  years  been  preparing 
young  doctors  for  the  army,  and  young  assistant  sur 
geons  for  their  passing  examination  after  five  years  of 
service.  With  my  general  acquaintance  with  the  medical 

31 


32    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

staff,  therefore,  I  had  absorbed  some  of  their  traditions, 
and  a  good  many  of  their  prejudices. 

But  I  am  not  yet  quite  out  of  Philadelphia.  Dr. 
DaCosta  and  my  cousin  Brinton  Coxe,  accompanied  me 
to  the  railroad  station  and  saw  me  off,  by  the  night 
train,  which  left  at  n  o'clock.  Sleeping  berths  of  a 
very  inferior  pattern  had  just  been  introduced,  and  I 
considered  myself  very  fortunate  to  procure  an  upper 
single  berth.  But  I  confess,  that  grown  man  as  I  was, 
and  twenty-nine  years  of  age,  I  felt  very  lonely  upon 
departing,  although  anxious  to  join  the  army. 

I  left  Philadelphia,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember,  on 
the  night  of  Monday,  the  ninth  of  September,  1861. 
After  a  considerable  delay,  I  reached  St.  Louis  very 
tired  early  on  the  morning  of  the  I2th,  and  went  to 
the  Planters  House,  at  that  time  the  fashionable  hotel 
of  the  city.  The  hotel  swarmed  with  officers,  con 
tractors,  and  others  busied  with  military  affairs.  I 
found  St.  Louis  in  a  strange  state;  it  was,  I  believe, 
under  martial  law,  and  preparations  for  war  were  being 
carried  forward  on  all  sides.  The  streets  swarmed  with 
soldiers,  mostly  Germans,  and  the  hotels  were  crowded 
with  money-making  people,  not  a  few  of  whom  were 
Jews.  A  large  number  of  the  inhabitants,  they  said 
some  fifty  or  sixty  thousand,  had  already  left  the  city, 
and  I  did  not  wonder,  for  there  was  everywhere  a  feel 
ing  of  insecurity. 

After  breakfast  on  the  I2th  of  September,  I  put  on 
my  uniform  frock  coat,  and  started  to  report  to  General 
Fremont  at  his  headquarters.  But  I  could  not  get  near 
him,  as  he  was  busily  engaged  in  making  a  political 
speech  from  the  steps  or  balcony  of  the  building.  The 
impression  I  received  from  the  first,  of  this  somewhat 
noted  person,  was  not  a  very  favorable  one.  He  was  a 


Leaving  Home  33 

man  of  middle  age,  in  major  general's  uniform.  He 
was  surrounded  by  a  queer  crowd  of  foreigners,  Ger 
mans,  Hungarians  and  mixed  nationalities,  much  over- 
uniformed,  and  rejoicing  in  gold  belts  and  breast  sashes 
unknown  to  our  service.  There  was  much  jabbering 
and  gesticulation,  and  the  scene  was  most  un-American. 
I  was  told  that  General  Fremont  had  gathered  around 
himself  a  host  of  adventurers,  who  seemed  to  look  upon 
him  as  an  autocrat,  and  to  be  forgetful  of  the  existence 
of  a  national  government.  At  the  time  I  was  in  St. 
Louis,  he  was  busy  creating  strange  offices,  and  filling 
them  with  strange  appointees.  The  selection  of  Fre 
mont  as  the  commandant  of  the  western  district  was, 
I  suppose,  based  upon  political  grounds.  He  was  be 
lieved  to  control  the  German  settlement  in  Missouri,  an 
element  which  had  remained  loyal  to  the  Union,  and  in 
fact  had  preserved  the  state  of  Missouri  for  the  Union; 
so  looking  back,  after  this  long  interval,  perhaps  the 
selection  was  not  so  bad  after  all,  although  certainly 
Fremont  was  little  of  a  real  soldier. 

After  listening  to  the  General's  speech,  and  the  ap 
plause  which  followed  it,  I  pushed  my  way  through  the 
middle  of  the  crowd  of  civilians  and  soldiers,  and  reached 
the  office  of  the  adjutant  general,  Major  Chauncy  Mc- 
Keever,  to  whom  I  reported,  and  who  treated  me  with 
the  greatest  courtesy  and  kindness.  I  am  sure  that  he 
must  have  realized  how  young  a  soldier  I  was — how 
green  in  fact — and  I  know  that  he  gave  me  some  good 
advice,  for  which  I  was  very  grateful  at  the  time,  and 
which  I  did  not  forget.  Among  other  things  he  in 
formed  me  that  the  sooner  I  took  myself  away  from  St. 
Louis,  and  its  mongrel  soldiers,  the  better  it  would  be 
for  me,  and  added  that  I  would  receive  my  orders  that 
afternoon,  which  I  did,  when  I  found  that  I  was  di- 


34    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

reeled  to  proceed,  without  delay,  to  Cairo,  Illinois,  there 
to  report  to  the  Medical  Director,  Surgeon  Simons, 
U.  S.  A. 

That  afternoon,  having  dined  at  the  Planters'  House, 
I  took  a  walk  through  the  streets  of  St.  Louis,  and  I 
remember  quite  well  passing  in  front  of  a  German 
regiment  drawn  up  in  line.  As  I  stopped  on  the  side 
walk  to  look  at  them,  I  was  thunderstruck  to  have  the 
whole  regiment  present  arms  to  me.  At  first,  I  could 
not  take  it  in.  But  there  was  no  mistake, — they  were 
presenting  arms  to  me;  so  I  gravely  raised  my  regular 
army  cap,  made  the  best  salute  I  could  in  turn,  and 
sauntered  off,  just  as  if  I  had  been  accustomed  to  that 
sort  of  thing  all  my  life.  However  I  can  assure  you 
that  I  had  never,  in  my  whole  experience,  felt  quite  so 
foolish  before.  The  thing  seemed  to  me  to  be  little  less 
than  a  swindle  on  my  part.  I  was  conscious  of  perpe 
trating  some  sort  of  deception.  I  suppose  that  it  must 
have  been  due  to  the  extremely  military  appearance  of 
my  uniform,  and  most  of  all,  perhaps,  to  my  cap,  which 
had  already  begun  to  assume  a  truly  military  swagger. 

My  orders  directed  me  to  Cairo,  Illinois,  to  report 
there  to  the  medical  director.  I  cannot  at  this  time 
recall  very  much  of  the  journey  down,  except  that  I 
went  by  rail,  and  arrived  at  Cairo  very  late  in  the  night 
of  the  1 4th  of  September.  The  train  stopped  on  the 
levee,  immediately  in  front  of  the  St.  Charles'  Hotel,  the 
only  hotel  of  any  size  in  Cairo.  I  was  shown  to  my 
room — that  is  to  say,  I  found  myself  entitled  to  one- 
third  of  a  very  dirty,  dark,  horrid  sort  of  a  chamber, 
containing  two  little  beds,  not  double  beds,  and  yet  not 
single  beds.  It  seemed  that  I  was  entitled  to  one-half 
of  either  of  these  beds,  that  is  to  say,  if  I  were  able 
to  move  the  occupant  of  whichever  I  might  select,  away 


Leaving  Home  35 

from  the  middle  of  the  bed.  A  wretched,  flickering, 
dirty  gas  light  was  burning,  and  I  had  an  excellent 
chance  to  study  the  two  sleepers,  and  to  select  which 
one,  if  either,  was  to  be  preferred.  As  far  as  I  could 
determine,  it  was  an  even  thing,  for  both  were  very 
dirty.  Each  of  them  had  wrapped  himself  up  in  all 
the  clothes  of  the  bed,  and  each  snored  and  grunted 
harmoniously  with  the  other,  as  my  movements  startled 
him.  I  was  not  accustomed  to  that  kind  of  thing,  and 
even  now  as  I  recall  that  night,  I  laugh  to  myself  to 
think  how  very  wretched  I  was.  A  homesick  feeling 
came  over  me,  which  I  have  not  forgotten  to  this  day. 
The  more  I  looked  at  the  lovely  sleepers,  the  less  I  liked 
them,  and  so  I  made  up  my  mind  to  disturb  neither  of 
them,  but  to  wrap  myself  up  in  my  blanket  shawl,  and 
to  sleep  on  the  very  dirty  floor.  This  I  did,  and  dozed 
off,  feeling  that  never  was  there  so  dirty  a  floor,  nor 
so  miserable  a  soldier  as  myself.  I  tell  you  all  this, 
because  as  you  will  find  before  long,  I  learned  quite 
bravely  how  to  rough  it,  but  just  at  that  time  I  was, 
to  use  the  western  language  of  the  day  "a  featherbed 
fellow/'  In  the  morning,  I  was  early  enough  off  the 
floor,  and  having  breakfasted,  I  started  to  report  to 
Dr.  Simons.  I  found  him  eventually  in  the  third  story 
of  Safford's  Bank,  the  headquarters  of  the  general  com 
manding  the  district  of  Cairo,  as  it  was  designated  at 
that  time.  Dr.  Simons,  who  was  a  full  surgeon  in  the 
regular  army,  was  from  South  Carolina  and  dated  his 
commission  from  July,  1839.  He  had  been  through  the 
Mexican  war  and  regarded  himself  as  a  typical  soldier. 
He  was  full  of  old  war  remembrances  and  had  much  to 
tell  of  General  Scott,  and  all  the  old  army  worthies. 
His  wife,  as  he  himself  told  me,  was  a  Baltimore  lady, 
the  daughter,  I  think,  of  a  gentleman  whose  leanings 


36    Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

were  to  the  United  States  government.  Dr.  Simons, 
from  this  cause,  or  possibly  from  native  loyalty,  had 
adhered  to  the  old  army  and  had  not  seceded  with  his 
state.  Yet  I  could  see  that  he  felt  lonely;  he  was  parted 
from  all  of  his  old  associates,  and  he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  any  intimate  companionship  with  the  new 
men,  with  whom  the  new  war  brought  him  in  contact. 
He  had  no  medical  confidant,  no  one  to  whom  he  could 
talk,  and  I  saw  at  once  that  we  probably  would  become 
good  friends. 

In  fact,  Dr.  Simons,  who  was  a  great  talker,  wanted 
some  one  to  listen  to  him,  and  assist  him  in  his  pro 
fessional  work.  I  do  not  think  he  was  very  fond  of 
this  latter;  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  more  an  army  man 
than  an  army  surgeon.  However,  he  was  kind  to  me 
and  immediately  assigned  me  to  some  work  in  connec 
tion  with  the  medical  director's  office.  I  had  to  pre 
scribe  for  a  great  many  sick,  and  I  know  that  I  did 
direct  a  vast  quantity  of  Dover's  powders. 

Dr.  Simons  advised  me  to  leave  the  St.  Charles  Hotel 
at  once,  and  to  take  boarding  at  the  house  in  which 
he  was  staying,  over  SafTord's  Bank,  stating  that  the 
headquarters  were  located  there.  By  this  he  meant  that 
the  general  and  the  staff  boarded  in  the  house,  and  I 
then  found  out  that  the  lower  story,  the  back  offices 
in  fact,  or  a  part  of  them,  were  occupied  by  Brigadier 
General  U.  S.  Grant,  U.  S.  V.,  as  headquarters.  I  was 
at  once  introduced  to  the  general,  who,  I  believed,  had 
only  a  few  days  previous  received  his  brigadier  general's 
commission. 

Of  the  many  who  have  written  of  him,  made  speeches 
about  him,  applauded  him,  and  flattered  him,  few,  very 
few  are  left  who  saw  him,  and  watched  him,  and  studied 
him,  as  I  did.  From  the  very  first,  he  attracted  me, 


Leaving  Home  37 

and  I  felt  very  soon,  and  indeed  at  the  time  of  the  battle 
of  Belmont,  Mo.,  wrote  home,  that  the  man  had  come 
who  would  finish  this  war,  should  he  have  the  chance. 

I  first  saw  General  Grant  at  the  dinner  table,  when  I 
was  introduced  to  him  by  Dr.  Simons,  receiving  from 
him  a  friendly  nod.  On  the  same  evening  I  went  into 
the  bank.  Behind  the  counter,  the  general  and  his  as 
sistant  adjutant  general,  Jno.  A.  Rawlins,  or  Captain 
Rawlins,  as  he  was  then,  were  seated  at  a  little  round 
table.  I  fancy  that  I  wanted  to  write  a  letter  home, 
for  I  remember  that  the  general  very  kindly  asked  me 
to  sit  down,  and  continued  his  work  with  Rawlins.  I 
had  then  a  good  opportunity  to  observe  him,  and  I  did 
so  very  closely.  He  was  then  a  very  different  looking 
man  from  the  General  Grant,  or  the  President  of  after 
days.  As  I  first  saw  him,  he  was  a  very  short,  small, 
rather  spare  man  with  full  beard  and  moustache.  His 
beard  was  a  little  long,  very  much  longer  than  he  after 
wards  wore  it,  unkempt  and  irregular,  and  of  a  sandy, 
tawny  shade.  His  hair  matched  his  beard,  and  at  a 
first  glance  he  seemed  to  be  a  very  ordinary  sort  of 
a  man,  indeed  one  below  the  average  in  most  respects. 
But  as  I  sat  and  watched  him  then,  and  many  an  hour 
afterwards,  I  found  that  his  face  grew  upon  me.  His 
eyes  were  gentle  with  a  kind  expression,  and  thoughtful. 
He  did  not  as  a  rule,  speak  a  great  deal.  At  that  time 
he  seemed  to  be  turning  matters  over  in  his  mind,  and 
to  be  very  much  occupied  indeed  with  the  work  of  the 
hour.  He  did  nothing  carelessly,  but  worked  slowly, 
every  now  and  then  stopping  and  taking  his  pipe  out  of 
his  mouth. 

But  this  reminds  me,  that  I  have  not  yet  spoken  of 
his  pipe.  The  man  in  after  days  became  so  thoroughly 
identified  with  the  cigar,  that  people  could  scarcely  be- 


38    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

lieve  that  he  was  once  an  assiduous  smoker  of  the  pipe. 
Well,  the  pipe  which  he  first  used  was  a  meerschaum  with 
a  curved  stem  eight  or  ten  inches  long,  which  allowed 
the  pipe  to  hang  down.  He  smoked  steadily  and  slowly 
and  evidently  greatly  enjoyed  his  tobacco. 

The  day  after  my  arrival  at  Cairo  was  Sunday,  when 
I  expected  I  should  have  comparative  leisure,  but  I 
found  myself  busier  than  ever,  Dr.  Simons  assuring  me 
most  earnestly,  that  "in  wartime  there  were  no  Sun 
days  or  holidays."  Two  days  later  I  was  ordered  to 
St.  Louis,  with  a  cargo  of  sick  soldiers,  under  the  fol 
lowing  order,  in  General  Grant's  own  handwriting. 

[SPECIAL  ORDER] 

Headquarters  Dist.  S.  E.  Missouri, 

Cairo,  Sept.  16,  1861. 

"In  consequence  of  the  lack  of  capacity  of  the  hos 
pitals  at  this  Post,  to  hold  the  sick  unfit  to  remain  in 
camp,  Brigadier  Surgeon  Brinton  will  proceed  by  boat 
this  evening  to  St.  Louis,  in  charge  of  such  sick  as  may 
be  put  under  his  charge  by  the  Medical  Director  of  the 
post.  On  his  arrival  at  St.  Louis,  Dr.  Brinton  will  re 
port  to  the  Medical  Director  of  the  Department  of  the 
West,  Dr.  DeCamp.  Upon  being  relieved  of  his  sick, 
he  will  return  to  this  Post  without  delay.  A  list  of  the 
sick,  so  disposed  of,  together  with  the  company  and 
regiment  to  which  they  belong,  will  be  furnished  to  this 
office,  in  order  that  the  General  commanding  may  cause 
to  be  made  out,  and  furnish  to  the  proper  Medical 
Officer  in  St.  Louis,  a  descriptive  role  of  them." 

By  order  of  BRIG.  GENL.  GRANT, 

Commanding. 

JOHN  A.  RAWLINS, 

Capt.  and  A.  A.  Genl. 


Leaving  Home  39 

I  greatly  enjoyed  this  trip  up  the  Mississippi.  I  had 
never  before  been  on  a  western  river  steamer,  and  then, 
too,  I  was  in  authority,  official  authority,  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life.  It  was  all  so  new  to  me.  The  poor 
sick  wretches  under  my  command  were  ready  to  do  what 
I  ordered.  The  associations,  for  the  time  being,  with 
the  officers  of  the  boat,  the  captain  of  the  steamer  con 
sulting  with  me  as  to  when  and  where  we  would  stop 
and  the  pilot  inviting  me  into  his  den,  far  up  by  the 
"texas"  (that  is  the  third  deck  of  the  boat), — all  of  this 
was  so  new,  and  so  different  from  all  to  which  I  had 
been  accustomed,  that  I  felt  myself  quite  rapidly  de 
veloping  into  a  sort  of  superior  creature. 

Having  turned  my  sick  over  to  the  proper  author 
ities  in  St.  Louis,  I  returned  to  Cairo  and  reported  to 
Dr.  Simons. 


CHAPTER   III 

MOUND    CITY    HOSPITAL 

I  did  not  stay  in  Cairo  long.  The  number  of  sick  in 
the  district  was  rapidly  increasing  and  it  had  become 
necessary  that  the  hospital  accommodations  should  be 
come  largely  augmented.  The  town  of  Mound  City, 
four  years  old  and  of  speculative  origin  and  growth, 
stood  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Ohio  river,  about  eight 
miles  above  Cairo.  It  was  then  a  very  little  town,  just 
on  the  river  bank,  a  long  row  of  three  or  four-story 
brick  houses,  or  rather  warehouses,  built  to  accommo 
date  the  anticipated  business  of  the  future  city.  As  a 
speculation  they  had  up  to  this  time  been  a  failure,  and 
the  buildings  stood  finished  as  to  their  walls,  but  un 
finished  as  to  their  interiors.  They  were  just  in  that 
state,  from  which  they  could  readily  be  converted  into  a 
general  hospital,  three  hundred  feet  long  in  front,  by 
one  hundred  feet  deep,  capable  of  accommodating  from 
eight  hundred  to  one  thousand  patients  comfortably. 
This  building,  the  medical  director  had  selected  for  the 
great  general  hospital  of  the  district,  and  I  was  sent 
by  him  with  full  instructions  to  accomplish  the  work, 
and  to  take  charge  of  the  hospital  when  completed. 

Accordingly  to  Mound  City  I  went  at  once,  and  put 
up  at  the  hotel  of  the  place,  situated  not  far  from  the 
river  bank.  There  was  rather  a  stir  in  business  at  that 
time  in  the  new  little  city,  as  four  of  the  Mississippi 
ironclads,  the  "turtles,"  as  they  were  afterwards  chris- 

40 


Mound  City  Hospital  41 

tened,  were  being  built  here  by  Captain  Eads,  for  the 
United  States  government.  These  were  to  be  covered 
by  iron  slabs  ten  and  a  half  inches  thick,  arranged  like 
the  roof  of  a  house,  and  at  such  angle  as  would  best 
turn  or  deflect  any  shot  or  shell  striking  them. 

They  proved  to  be  a  success,  and  afterward  played 
a  prominent  part  in  the  operations  undertaken  to  open 
the  Mississippi  River.  Many  of  the  chief  workmen  or 
master  mechanics  employed  on  their  vessels  boarded  at 
the  hotel  to  which  I  went. 

One  of  my  first  cares  was  to  provide  quarters  for 
myself;  and  here  I  was  so  fortunate  as  to  find  the  first 
floor  of  a  little  house  or  shop,  which  suited  me  exactly, 
two  communicating  rooms,  capable  of  holding  whatever 
I  might  choose  to  put  in  them.  So  with  a  little  cot  bed 
with  bedding  and  mosquito  netting  from  the  hospital 
stores,  with  my  big  blue  blanket  for  a  carpet,  a  stove 
and  a  looking  glass,  a  pitcher  and  a  wash  basin,  I  estab 
lished  myself  at  once  in  a  most  luxurious  manner.  My 
landlord  was  a  little  German  apothecary  from  Hesse, 
who  lived  next  door  with  his  wife.  They  had  not  been 
very  long  in  the  country,  and  were  very  nice  people. 
My  breakfast  and  tea  were  furnished  me  by  my  hostess, 
and  her  omelets  were  unexceptionable,  and  the  coffee  well 
made.  The  whole  establishment  was  quite  cozy  and  eco 
nomical.  I  paid  four  dollars  a  month  for  my  room  rent, 
and  my  provisioning  was  on  an  equally  modest  scale. 

It  would  be  hard  to  understand  the  difficulties  I  had 
to  overcome  before  I  could  get  my  hospital  into  a  con 
dition  to  receive  even  one  or  two  hundred  sick.  How 
ever,  I  stuck  to  my  work,  and  eventually,  before  I  was 
relieved  from  the  charge  of  the  hospital,  I  had  succeeded 
in  bringing  it  to  a  satisfactory  state.  A  year  or  so 
later,  after  I  had  learned  something  about  hospitals 


42    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

(I  mean  military  ones),  I  am  sure  I  could  have  accom 
plished  in  a  few  hours  the  work  that  cost  me  so  many 
weary  days  of  labor  and  nights  of  thought  at  Mound 
City. 

One  of  my  chief  troubles  at  this  place  was  the  diffi 
culty, — and,  I  may  almost  say,  the  impossibility,  of  pro 
curing  the  necessary  men  to  do  the  work  incident  to 
the  formation  of  a  large  hospital.  In  a  city,  or  where 
the  command  was  large,  this  difficulty  would  not  have 
existed,  and  men  could  have  been  obtained.  But  the 
garrison  at  Mound  City  at  this  time  was  but  a  single 
regiment,  and  to  this  regiment  many  duties  were  as 
signed.  The  presence  of  the  iron  gunboats,  in  process 
of  building,  was  a  tempting  bait  to  the  enemy,  who  prac 
tically  held  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  and  our 
men  were  constantly  on  the  alert  against  surprise.  At 
first  we  were  very  defenceless,  but  later,  guns  and  a 
battery  were  sent  up  for  our  protection.  Every  day  or 
two  an  alarm  would  be  raised  and  we  would  be  told 
that  the  enemy  were  in  force  on  the  opposite  shore,  and 
our  scouting  parties  would  be  sent  out  to  reconnoitre. 
During  my  stay,  however,  the  excursions  never  resulted 
in  any  practical  end.  The  "enemy"  would  usually  turn 
out  to  be  scouts  of  our  own  from  camps  below  Cairo. 

Had  I  rightly  appreciated  my  position  at  this  time, 
I  should  have  known  that  I  was  really  well  off.  I  had 
every  authority  I  could  wish  for,  I  was  comfortably 
situated,  and  nobody  to  interfere  with  me,  and,  as  far 
as  I  knew,  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the  Medical  direc 
tor.  But  the  fact  was,  I  was  lonely,  dreadfully  lonely; 
the  men  by  whom  I  was  surrounded  were  not  to  my 
liking;  I  did  not  understand  their  rough,  western,  good- 
hearted  ways  and  I  longed  at  that  time  to  be  among 
those  whom  I  called  "gentlemen."  I  am  afraid  I  did 


Mound  City  Hospital  43 

not  try  to  make  myself  popular  and  I  am  sure  that  I 
received  more  consideration  than  I  deserved.  I  am  sure, 
too,  that  I  fretted  a  great  deal  more  than  was  at  all 
necessary,  about  my  hospital,  though  it  was  hardly  to 
be  wondered  at,  considering  I  had  only  half-sick  men, 
or  the  prisoners  from  the  guard  house,  to  do  my  work. 
Scrubbing,  sweeping,  putting  up  beds,  and  making  beds, 
and  that  sort  of  thing,  was,  to  use  the  western  formula, 
"women's  work,"  and  these  gawky  western  men  insisted 
upon  it  that  they  did  not  come  into  the  army  to  do 
anything  else  but  fight.  It  was  astonishing  to  me  how 
slowly  these  fellows  did  work,  even  with  a  guard  behind 
them.  In  fact,  they  seemed  only  to  work  when  my  eye 
was  upon  them.  Just  as  soon  as  my  back  was  turned 
all  exertion  ceased. 

But  if  the  men  were  bad,  the  women  were  worse. 
Just  at  this  period  the  craze  spread  among  our  good 
people  that  the  women  of  the  country  could  make  them 
selves  very  useful  by  acting  as  nurses  for  the  sick  and 
wounded.  So  out  they  came,  these  patriotic  women  of 
the  North.  The  Secretary  of  War,  the  generals  com 
manding  departments,  divisions  or  military  posts,  were 
besieged  by  them.  By  strained  construction  of  certain 
paragraphs  in  the  army  regulations,  and  of  acts  of  Con 
gress,  positions,  paid  positions,  were  devised  for  them. 
They  besieged  all  officers  and  persons  high  in  authority, 
and  these,  on  the  general  military  principle  of  sending  a 
disagreeable  person  as  far  away  as  possible,  sent  the  fair 
petitioners  to  as  far  away  positions  as  they  could.  And 
the  women  went,  and  on  the  arrival  of  certain  trains 
would  stalk  into  the  office  of  district  commanders,  and 
establish  themselves  solemnly  against  the  walls,  en 
trenched  behind  their  bags  and  parcels.  They  defied  all 
military  law.  There  they  were,  and  there  they  would 


44    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

stay,  until  some  accommodation  might  be  found  for 
them.  In  self-defence  the  adjutant  general  would  send 
them  to  the  medical  director,  and  he,  gallantly  or  not, 
as  might  be  his  nature,  would  forward  them  to  the 
surgeon  in  charge  of  hospitals.  To  him  at  last  these 
wretched  females  would  come.  "They  did  not  wish 
much/'  not  they,  "simply  a  room,  a  bed,  a  looking  glass, 
someone  to  get  their  meals  and  do  little  things  for  them," 
and  they  would  nurse  the  "sick  boys  of  our  gallant  Union 
Army."  "Simply  a  room."  Can  you  fancy  half  a  dozen 
or  a  dozen  old  hags,  for  that  is  what  they  were  (our 
modern  efficient  trained  nurses  were  unknown),  sur 
rounding  a  bewildered  hospital  surgeon,  each  one  clam 
orous  for  her  little  wants?  And  rooms  so  scarce  and 
looking  glasses  so  few!  And  then,  when  you  had  done 
your  best,  and  had  often  sacrificed  the  accommodations 
for  the  sick  to  their  benefit,  how  little  gratitude  did  one 
receive!  Usually  nothing  but  complaints,  fault-finding 
as  to  yourself,  and  backbiting  as  to  companions  of  their 
own  sex.  In  short  this  female  nurse  business  was  a  great 
trial  to  all  the  men  concerned,  and  to  me  at  Mound  City 
soon  became  intolerable. 

I  determined,  therefore,  to  try  to  get  rid  of  them 
from  the  Mound  City  hospital.  In  answer  to  my  re 
quest  to  the  Catholic  authorities  of,  I  think,  North 
and  South  Bend,  Indiana,  a  number  of  sisters  were  sent 
down  to  act  as  nurses  in  the  hospital.  These  sent  were 
from  a  teaching  and  not  from  a  nursing  order,  but  in 
a  short  time  they  adapted  themselves  admirably  to  their 
new  duties.  I  have  forgotten  the  exact  title  of  the  order 
to  which  they  belonged, — I  think  they  were  sisters  of 
Notre  Dame.  I  remember  their  black  and  white  dresses, 
and  I  remember  also,  that  when  I  asked  the  Mother, 
who  accompanied  them,  what  accommodation  they  re- 


Mound  City  Hospital  45 

quired,  the  answer  was,  "One  room,  Doctor,"  and  there 
were  in  all,  I  think,  fourteen  or  fifteen  of  them.  So  I 
procured  good  nurses  for  my  sick  and  the  whole  tribe  of 
sanitary  "Mrs.  Brundages"  passed  away.  The  sick  pa 
tients  gained  by  the  change,  but  for  a  few  days  I  was 
the  most  abused  man  in  that  department,  for  the  news 
papers  gave  me  no  mercy. 

A  great  deal  has  been  written  about  the  bountiful 
supplies  sent  by  the  North  to  the  army.  Undoubtedly, 
this  was  true  in  the  later  part  of  the  war,  and  in  the 
early  part  of  the  war,  as  far  as  the  army  of  the  Po 
tomac  and  the  eastern  armies  generally  were  concerned. 
But  we  in  the  west  fared  badly  at  first  (notice  that  I  use 
the  pronoun  "we"  in  the  plural  for  I  was  fast  becoming 
a  military  man  in  my  military  sympathies)  ;  not  perhaps 
while  I  was  at  Mound  City,  but  later  when  I  had  the 
honor  of  being  a  member  of  the  military  family  of  one 
who  was  to  become  the  great  "Captain"  of  this  war. 
We,  in  the  west,  then,  I  say,  were  badly  armed,  and  not 
well  supplied  with  the  medical  equipment,  necessary  for 
the  active  preparations  we  were  just  entering  upon.  But 
I  will  say  more  of  this  hereafter. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  objection  of  the  western  man 
or  soldier  to  doing  certain  kinds  of  work.  Nevertheless, 
he  possesses  a  certain  degree  of  independence,  and  of 
marked  individuality.  An  outcome  of  this  is  "lynch 
law,"  essential,  perhaps,  to  the  development  of  the  west 
ern  land,  but  from  the  influence  of  which  it  is  hard 
for  the  western  man  entirely  to  free  himself,  even  when 
the  necessity  for  it  has  passed  away.  Should  any  nec 
essity  for  it  arise,  he  turns  to  it  again  naturally.  In 
illustration  I  may  state  that  the  Eighteenth  Illinois  Regi 
ment  (infantry)  was  stationed  here.  It  had  the  reputa 
tion  of  being  a  somewhat  wild  regiment.  One  evening 


46    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

a  private  in  that  regiment,  in  cold  blood,  shot  a  private 
of  his  own  company,  for  some  petty  grudge.  The  regi 
ment  was  on  the  point  of  moving,  and  was  waiting  for 
marching  orders  in  a  few  hours.  The  man  could  not 
be  tried  by  martial  law,  as  Illinois  was  a  loyal  state.  He 
could  not  be  tried  by  a  civil  process,  as  the  witnesses 
would  move  with  their  regiment.  There  was  but  one 
solution,  and  that  was  for  his  comrades  to  take  the  law 
into  their  own  hands,  in  fact  for  the  matter  to  be  set 
tled  according  to  the  stern  and  summary  procedure  of 
"lynch  law." 

This  was  accordingly  done,  a  jury  of  twelve  was 
chosen  from  his  own  company,  a  judge  was  selected, 
and  a  court  established.  There  was  a  counsel  for  the 
defence  and  a  counsel  for  the  prosecution.  In  the  in 
terests  of  justice,  witnesses  were  heard.  I  think  I  was 
asked  if  the  victim  died  from  the  effects  of  a  gun  shot 
wound.  I  know,  that  at  the  time,  I  could  hardly  be 
lieve  that  this  was  all  in  real  earnest.  The  prisoner  was 
found  guilty  by  the  jury  and  was  sentenced  to  be  hanged 
on  the  following  morning.  As  I  was  informed,  a  com 
mission  from  the  regiment  waited  on  the  Colonel,  and  re 
quested  him  to  go  to  Cairo  early  in  the  morning,  to  make 
purchases.  He  obligingly  complied  and  left  the  camp 
betimes.  As  I  was  eating  my  breakfast  on  the  morning 
following  the  so-called  trial,  the  regiment  in  good  order, 
and  headed  by  the  Lieutenant-Colonel,  marched  past  to 
a  strip  of  woods  just  beyond  the  borough  limits.  The 
prisoner  was  placed  in  a  cart,  a  rope  around  his  neck ; 
the  officiating  executioner,  who  sat  in  the  fork  of  the 
tree  just  above  the  doomed  man's  head,  made  all  fast; 
the  cart  made  off,  the  man  was  hanged  and  justice  done. 
Someone  suggested  to  the  military  officials  in  charge  the 
advantages  of  a  grave  for  the  dead  man.  "A  damned 


Mound  City  Hospital  47 

good  idea,"  remarked  the  functionary,  "Dig  one  under 
him  as  he  hangs  and  drop  him  into  it."  This  was  done, 
the  grave  was  dug,  the  body  lowered  and  dropped  into 
it.  The  hole  was  filled  up,  the  executioner  jumped  down 
from  his  perch,  the  regiment  formed  in  marching  order, 
and  then  moved  off  to  their  daily  duties.  All  parties 
felt  that  they  had  performed  a  virtuous  act;  and  per 
haps,  as  things  go,  they  had. 

After  a  while  the  Colonel  came  and  pretended  much 
surprise. 

The  matter  was  reported  to  General  Halleck  at  St. 
Louis  in  a  mild  way,  and  there  was  some  correspondence. 
It  was  rumored  that  it  would  go  hard  with  the  regi 
ment,  or  at  all  events  with  the  officers.  But  events 
were  pressing,  the  regiment  moved  off,  and  no  more 
was  heard  of  the  matter.  After  all,  it  was  war-time, 
justice  had  been  done,  and  the  men  themselves,  the 
parties  concerned,  had  acted.  This  was  my  only  ex 
perience  during  the  war  with  "lynch  law,"  a  rough  code, 
it  is  true,  but  in  this  case  it  produced  a  most  salutary 
effect.  The  regiment  which  had  been  a  wild  one,  was 
sobered,  and  I  doubt  if  anyone  who  witnessed  that 
hanging  ever  forgot  it. 

During  my  short  stay  at  Mound  City  hospital,  I  first 
learned  what  it  really  was  to  be  in  authority.  The  re 
sponsibility  which  to  me,  was  always  commensurate  with 
the  authority,  weighed  heavily  upon  me.  I  did  my  best 
to  get  for  the  patients  in  the  hospitals  all  the  comforts 
I  could,  not  only  from  the  government  supplies  but  also 
with  the  aid  societies,  which  at  that  time  were  springing 
up  everywhere  in  the  west  and  the  east.  For  you  must 
remember  that  this  was  a  "people's  war,"  and  that  those 
who  remained  at  home  worked  hard  to  supply  with 
comforts  those  who  were  in  the  fields.  The  men  gave 


48    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

money,  the  women  fitted  up  boxes  containing  every  im 
aginable  and  unimaginable  convenience  and  comfort  for 
"our  boys,"  which  they  were  only  too  glad  to  send  on 
request.  A  good  many  of  these  "soldiers'  boxes"  reached 
me,  and  most  useful  they  proved.  It  was  a  great  thing 
to  have  these  extra  stores  which  one  could  dispense  at 
discretion,  and  for  which  no  special  return  or  account 
had  to  be  given.  I  do  not  know  how  it  was  in  the 
east  at  the  early  period  of  the  war  but  in  the  west, 
few  delicacies  or  extra  stores  of  hospital  clothing  or 
linen  could  be  procured  from  the  department  of  the 
medical  purveyor. 

The  supplies  at  this  time  sent  to  the  western  troops 
by  the  government  were  scanty,  and  it  was  not  until 
after  Dr.  William  A.  Hammond  became  surgeon  gen 
eral,  that  much  improvement  took  place  in  this  respect. 
But  I  will  speak  of  this  hereafter,  and  shall  now  content 
myself  by  referring  to  the  boxes  which  reached  me  from 
Philadelphia  and  from  Newport,  R.  I.  The  former,  fur 
nished  on  my  own  request,  contained  all  sorts  of  under 
clothes  for  patients  in  hospital;  wrappers  and  slippers 
and  shirts  and  drawers  for  the  convalescents.  Then  too 
there  was  clothing  for  the  dead,  and  I  ought  to  state  that 
I  had  at  first  no  chaplain  to  perform  religious  services, 
or  to  bury  the  dead  and  more  than  once  I  was  obliged 
to  perform  these  gloomy  services  myself. 

I  referred  just  now  to  a  box  from  Newport,  R.  I. 
This  was  sent  by  Mr.  J.  C.  Van  Renselaer.  I  remember 
that  box  particularly.  It  contained  some  "good"  wine, 
and  some  "very  good."  This  I  was  authorized  by  the 
donor  to  apply  for  my  own  personal  benefit,  and  I  can 
distinctly  recall  that  "Old  Constitution  Madeira,"  figur 
ing  prominently  on  my  New  Year's  dinner  at  Cairo  on 
January  ist,  1862.  I  may  say  that  at  this  time  I  took 


Mound  City  Hospital  49 

very  good  care  of  myself  and  I  am  afraid  that  I  was  in 
some  respects  a  "  featherbed  soldier."  I  know  that  I 
swallowed  my  quinine  regularly  to  prevent  the  occur 
rence  of  chills;  and  that  I  was  very  careful  of  my  pre 
cious  self  in  every  way.  I  do  not  know  after  all  that 
I  should  be  blamed,  for  that  region  was  a  most  malarious 
one,  although  let  me  say  that  while  I  have  often  been 
near  a  malarious  country,  or  place,  or  town,  I  have  never 
yet  been  anywhere,  where  the  inhabitants  would  openly 
and  honestly  admit  that  unhealthiness  prevailed  just 
there.  Thus  at  Cairo,  below  the  level  of  the  waters  of 
the  two  rivers,  and  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking 
unhealthy  to  the  last  degree,  I  never  could  find  any 
Cairo-ite  who  would  frankly  acknowledge  the  fact.  If 
questioned,  the  answer  would  always  be,  "Unhealthy,  no 
indeed:  how  can  this  place  be  unhealthy  with  a  strong 
breeze  blowing  all  the  time  from  the  Ohio  to  the  Mis 
sissippi  River.  Now  Mound  City,  seven  miles  above,  is 
unhealthy,  everyone  knows  that."  Yet  at  Mound  City,  I 
would  be  told  "There  is  no  malaria  here.  If  you  want 
to  find  that,  you  must  go  to  Cairo,  where  everyone  has 
the  chills.  Here  we  are  entirely  protected  by  our  belt 
of  woods."  Probably  each  one  of  these  speakers  car 
ried  quinine  in  bulk  in  his  pocket,  and  took  it  daily,  al 
most  without  regard  to  definite  doses.  And  so  I  have 
gone  through  the  world  chilled  to  my  back  bone,  and  yet 
never  have  been  able  to  find  any  locality,  city  or  town, 
where  any  loyal  inhabitant  would  admit  the  presence  of 
the  dreaded  influence. 

While  at  Mound  City  I  felt  an  intolerable  desire  for 
home.  I  was  homesick  to  the  last  degree.  I  had  no 
society,  no  associates  of  my  own  rank,  and  although  the 
contract  assistant  surgeons  who  reported  to  me,  tried  to 
help  me,  still  I  had  not  been  long  enough  from  home 


50    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

to  have  learned  how  to  accustom  myself  to  new  com 
panions,  and  how  to  be  satisfied  in  the  novel  and  chang 
ing  circumstances  in  which  I  found  myself.  So  chafed 
was  I  at  all  my  discomforts  at  this  time  that  I  wrote  to 
my  cousin,  Dr.  John  McClellan  of  Philadelphia,  and 
afterwards  to  either  Arthur  or  George,  I  forget  which, 
begging  that  I  might  be  ordered  to  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac.  Fortunately  for  myself,  my  request  was  un 
heeded  by  my  cousin,  General  McClellan,  who  was  at 
this  time  in  command  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and 
my  letter  remained  unanswered,  and  I  remained  where 
I  was.  Had  I  only  known  it,  I  was  very  well  off,  and 
I  should  have  felt  very  happy  and  comfortable.  Mound 
City,  barring  its  malaria,  was  really  not  a  bad  place  to 
be  in.  It  had  even  almost  historic  associations,  for  it 
had  grown  up  close  by  the  abandoned  sites  of  the  old 
villages  or  towns  of  Trinity  and  Unity,  which  date  back 
to  the  earliest  settlements  of  the  French.  These  little 
villages  were  situated  on  a  sort  of  stream,  or  canal, 
which  connected,  once  upon  a  time,  the  Ohio  and  Mis 
sissippi  rivers.  This  stream  was  once  known  as  the 
"Cash"  River,  a  contraction  for  "Cache,"  and  was  nine 
or  ten  miles  long;  the  name  indicated,  I  suppose,  that 
at  sometime  or  other  provisions  or  supplies  had  been 
buried  or  hidden  near  its  banks.  The  channels  of  the 
stream  had  been  obstructed  and  the  towns  had  disap 
peared,  although  vestiges  of  the  stone  foundations  of 
the  houses  were  still  traceable,  and  one  could  see  evi 
dences  of  the  clearings  in  the  woods.  Tradition,  if  the 
term  be  here  admissible,  referred  the  foundation  of  these 
deserted  villages  almost  to  the  time  of  Father  Hennepin 
and  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  who  passed  down  from  Canada 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi. 

Another  curious  feature  of  this  place  was  the  mound 


Mound  City  Hospital  51 

from  which  the  city  took  its  name,  "Mound  City."  This 
mound  or  tumulus  was  a  circular  pyramidal  mound, 
about  thirty  feet  in  height,  situated  not  very  far  from 
the  right  bank  of  the  Ohio  river.  It  was  undoubtedly  of 
Indian  construction,  but  when  built,  or  exactly  by  whom, 
no  one  knew.  I  never  heard  that  it  had  been  pierced, 
or  that  any  search  had  ever  been  made  as  to  its  con 
tents.  I  suppose  that  it  had  once  been  intended  as  an 
Indian  burial  place.  At  the  time  I  knew  it  its  sides  were 
green,  and  the  top  was  surmounted  by  two  or  three 
trees,  under  which  I  liked  to  sit  and  smoke  my  pipe — 
thinking  of  home. 

One  of  the  first  things  I  learned  at  this  station  was 
how  to  answer  a  sentry's  challenge,  and  how  to  give  the 
countersign.  The  guard  line  ran  between  my  hospital 
and  my  quarters,  and  it  used  to  make  me  a  little  nervous 
at  first  to  be  stopped  after  work  by  the  hoarse  "Who 
goes  there"  of  the  sentry,  and  his  imperious  "Halt,"  and 
then  my  very  prompt  answer,  "A  friend  with  the  coun 
tersign,"  and  then  again  the  "Advance,  friend,  and  give 
the  countersign."  All  this  is  simple  enough  on  paper, 
but  when  the  challenge  was  emphasized  with  the  sharp 
click  of  the  musket  lock,  there  was  a  reality  about  it, 
which  was  unpleasantly  startling.  I  can  well  remember 
how  cautiously  the  "Friend"  (that  is  I  myself)  used  to 
advance,  dodging  that  bayonet  and  that  confounded  muz 
zle,  which  seemed  to  glitter  so  brightly,  no  matter  how 
dark  the  night,  and  which  seemed  to  be  pointing  in 
every  direction  at  the  same  moment,  and  how  carefully, 
how  distinctly  I  would  whisper  "Banks,"  and  then  hear 
the  sentry's  answer,  "Correct,  pass  on."  Such  was  the 
formula  every  time  I  went  to  my  hospital  at  night: 
Banks,  Halt,  Anderson,  Grant,  Concord,  Wool,  and  the 
like  were  the  favorite  words.  The  countersign  was  sent 


52    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

to  me  every  night  just  before  dark,  written  on  a  paper 
done  up  in  a  mysterious,  three  cornered  cocked  hat  of  a 
note;  and  I  have  more  than  once  in  my  after  military 
life  forgotten  the  word,  and  had  difficulty  in  recalling  it. 

Here,  too,  I  learned  to  salute ;  and  that,  let  me  tell  you, 
is  no  little  accomplishment. 

My  days  were  thus  busily  occupied,  and  in  the  evening 
I  used  to  look  over  my  accounts  and  write  my  letters, 
and  amuse  myself  in  killing  mosquitoes,  or  in  touching 
their  bites  with  a  solution  of  ammonia.  Very  powerful 
and  bloodthirsty  were  these  pests,  grey-backed,  huge 
and  insatiate.  Then,  too,  in  the  evenings  I  spent  a 
good  deal  of  time  in  studying  up  my  "Army  Regula 
tions,"  which  is  one  of  the  best  things  an  officer  can 
do,  especially  if  he  happens  to  have  many  executive  or 
administrative  duties  to  discharge.  At  the  same  time  I 
also  paid  some  attention  to  riding.  It  is  true  that  I  had 
not  yet  a  horse  of  my  own,  but  I  was  lucky  enough  to 
procure  for  my  ambulance  a  good  pair  of  horses  from 
the  quartermaster,  which  went  equally  as  well  in  the 
saddle  and  in  harness. 

By  the  I3th  or  izjth  of  October,  I  had  some  250  or 
300  men  in  hospital,  and  at  this  time  I  was  instructed 
to  lose  no  time  in  raising  the  hospital  capacity  to  800 
or  1,000  beds.  Besides  the  small  regimental  tent  hos 
pitals,  the  only  other  accommodation  for  the  sick  was 
the  district  hospital  at  Cairo,  under  the  charge  of  Acting 
Assistant  Surgeon  Burke,  a  resident  of  the  town,  and  the 
capacity  of  which  was  only  eighty  or  a  hundred. 

At  this  time,  Cairo  had  become  a  center  for  the  con 
centration  of  troops  for  future  contemplated  operations; 
the  forces  in  Cairo  and  its  dependencies  at  Fort  Holt  on 
the  Kentucky  side  of  the  Mississippi  River,  and  Byrds 
Point  on  the  Missouri  side  being  about  twenty  regiments 


Mound  City  Hospital  53 

of  infantry  and  one  or  two  of  cavalry,  used  for  patrolling 
and  scouting  duty.  All  of  the  troops  were  much  ex 
posed.  The  camps  were  close  to  the  river,  the  malarial 
influences  were  subtle  and  overwhelming,  the  hygienical 
conditions  were  bad,  the  men  had  not  learned  to  take 
care  of  themselves,  nor  had  their  surgeons  as  yet  had 
sufficient  military  experience  to  be  able  to  cope  with  the 
difficulties  of  their  new  positions.  The  supply  depart 
ments  were  inefficient,  the  medical  stores  in  the  hands 
of  the  medical  purveyor  at  Cairo  were  meager  and  not 
altogether  suited  to  the  necessitous  condition  of  the  com 
mand.  The  quartermaster's  supplies  were  also  scanty, 
and  even  when  plentiful  in  his  hands,  were  grudgingly 
and  unwillingly  issued  to  the  medical  department.  All 
complaints  of  the  latter  were  met  by  the  assurance  that 
supplies  could  not  be  obtained  from  St.  Louis,  and  it 
may  be  that  a  want  of  general  military  organization  did 
at  this  time  exist  at  this  city,  then  the  military  head 
quarters  of  the  department.  At  a  later  period,  their  de 
ficiencies  were  remedied,  probably  owing  to  the  exami 
nations  and  reports  made  by  careful  inspectors  from  the 
regular  service,  but  in  the  earlier  period  of  which  I  am 
now  speaking,  disorganization,  rather  than  organization, 
prevailed. 

I  suppose  that  all  this  medley  of  affairs  was  unavoid 
able,  and  was  in  great  part  due  to  the  newness  of  the 
war,  and  to  its  gigantic  proportions.  It  took  time  to 
learn  how  to  carry  on  so  great  a  struggle  and  to  fully 
appreciate  the  idea  that  it  was  all  in  dead  earnest. 
There  was  great  friction  at  first  in  the  movements  of 
the  vast  military  machine; — its  elements  and  component 
parts  were  freshly  made,  and  often  badly  put  together, 
and  the  men  who  managed  it  were  inexperienced.  The 
troops  were  raw,  filled  with  home  ideas,  and  I  know 


54    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

that  we,  the  officers  of  medical  corps,  had  much  to 
learn.  For  those  who  passed  from  civil  professional  life, 
into  what  I  may  describe  as  purely  professional  mili 
tary  life,  such  as  the  treatment  and  charge  of  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers,  it  was  not  so  very  hard.  Some  paper 
work  undoubtedly  there  was,  but  it  was  not  excessively 
onerous.  Far  different,  however,  was  it  with  those  of 
ficers  of  the  corps  of  brigade  surgeons,  who,  standing 
high  on  the  roll  of  their  corps,  found  themselves,  fresh 
from  civil  life,  suddenly  forced  into  positions  demanding 
a  high  degree  of  executive  and  administrative  ability. 
Not  a  few  were  early  called  upon  to  assume  the  respon 
sible  duties  of  medical  directors  of  corps,  armies  and 
departments.  In  the  old  service,  I  mean  the  regular 
service,  and  in  the  natural  order  of  events  and  by  the 
force  and  operation  of  the  law  of  seniority,  the  men 
who  discharged  these  functions  were  men  of  advancing 
age,  and  who  had  had  lifetime  experience  in  the  routine 
and  paper  duties  of  the  department.  In  the  exigencies 
of  our  national  strife,  from  the  magnitude  and  pressure 
of  its  demands,  officers  fresh  from  civil  life  were  called 
upon  at  a  moment's  notice,  and  without  previous  train 
ing,  to  discharge  these  high  duties;  how  to  do  so  prop 
erly  they  had  yet  to  learn,  and  that  in  the  face  of  press 
ing  events.  In  this  position  I  soon  found  myself,  and 
it  happened  more  from  the  kindness  and  good  will  of 
my  great  commander,  rather  than  from  any  merit  of 
my  own,  that  I  was  enabled  to  carry  myself  without 
discredit. 


CHAPTER   IV 

CAIRO,   1 86 1 

Towards  the  end  of  October,  1861,  Dr.  Simons,  Med 
ical  Director  of  Southeastern  Missouri  (that  is  Cairo 
and  its  dependencies),  relieved  me  from  duty  at  Mound 
City  General  Hospital  and  placed  me  on  duty  in  the 
medical  director's  office.  This,  as  I  discovered  in  a 
few  days,  was  merely  preparatory  to  my  temporary 
appointment  as  Medical  Director  of  the  District,  during 
the  proposed  absence  of  Surgeon  Simons,  who  had  ap 
plied  for  leave  to  visit  his  home  in  Baltimore.  On  ar 
riving  at  Cairo,  I  took  up  my  quarters  in  the  fourth  or 
fifth  story  of  Safford's  Bank  Building,  at  that  time  occu 
pied  as  the  headquarters  of  General  Grant.  The  office 
of  the  medical  director,  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  in 
the  third  story  front  room.  I  fancy  my  presence  was 
rather  agreeable  than  otherwise  to  Dr.  Simons  for,  as  I 
have  said  before,  he  seemed  to  be  dreadfully  lonely  and 
much  in  want  of  someone  to  talk  with.  He  was  a 
typical  southerner,  an  old  army  officer  of  the  Mexican 
War  type.  It  seemed  to  me,  however,  that  something 
must  have  happened  in  his  previous  life  which  had 
soured  him, — but  he  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  liked 
him. 

On  Wednesday,  the  23rd  of  October,  I  made  a  very 
pleasant  trip  on  board  a  flag  of  truce  steamer  down 
the  Mississippi,  to  Columbus,  far  in  the  enemy's  coun- 

55 


56    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

try.  The  description  of  this  trip  I  quote  in  part  from 
my  letter  to  my  Mother,  dated  October  24th. 

"About  noon  on  the  23rd  of  October,  I  started  in  a 
tiny  steam  tug  under  the  command  of  Colonel  N.  Baford, 
who  had  been  educated  at  West  Point,  but  had  been 
long  in  civil  life.  He  was  a  fussy  old  gentleman,  an 
old  granny,  but  kind  and  amiable;  he  had  with  him  two 
or  three  aides,  and  Dr.  Simons  and  I  went  as  inquisi 
tive  passengers  in  the  expectation  of  bringing  up  some 
wounded  men.  We  had  on  board  a  reporter  for  the 
New  York  Herald,  a  very  busy  man,  who  after  a  while 
got  very  drunk.  The  boat  was  the  smallest  steam  boat 
I  had  ever  seen,  hardly  large  enough,  in  fact,  to  carry 
the  party.  We  steamed  down  the  river  with  a  white 
sheet  tied  to  our  flagstaff,  away  down  the  river  for 
twenty-six  miles,  until  we  came  in  sight  of  the  high 
bluffs,  on  the  left-hand  side  just  above,  and  overtopping, 
the  town  of  Columbus,  Kentucky,  the  first  town  within 
the  river  limits  of  'Secessia.' ' 

The  noble  bluffs  were  covered  with  tents  and  swarmed 
with  men,  and  the  big  guns  pointed  their  ugly  noses  up 
the  river  in  a  terribly  menacing  manner.  We  were  all 
expectation,  and  I,  for  one,  could  not  help  wondering 
what  would  happen  next.  However,  our  saucy  little 
boat  floated  quietly  down,  gradually  approaching  the 
hostile  works,  the  ragamuffins  on  the  bank  running  along 
the  river  edge,  when,  Bang!  a  blank  cartridge  was  fired 
from  a  64-pounder.  We  whistled  three  times  and  then 
steamed  on  (which  we  ought  not  to  have  done),  until 
we  came  right  under  their  works.  "Bang!" — again 
went  the  heavy  gun,  and  we  came  to,  and  just  in  time; 
for  as  we  were  afterwards  told,  a  shotted  gun  was 
trained  on  us  to  check  this  abuse  of  a  flag  of  truce.  A 
shot  from  such  a  gun  at  a  5oo-yard  range  would  have 


Cairo,  1861  57 

been  indeed  no  joke,  especially,  aimed  as  this  one  was, 
by  Captain  Blake,  a  graduate  of  West  Point.  "Had  you 
not  finally  laid  to  when  you  did,"  this  person  told  me 
himself  the  next  day,  "I  should  have  sunk  you." 

And  so,  tardily  shutting  off  steam,  we  slowly  drifted 
down  until  we  reached  a  steamer,  anchored  by  the  slop 
ing  banks  of  the  changing  western  river.  Here  our 
chief,  Col.  Baford,  when  challenged,  asked  for  General 
Polk.  "I  am  General  Pillow"  was  the  answer,  "come  on 
board,"  and  so  we  did,  and  then  ascending  to  the  saloon 
of  the  steamer,  we  were  all  presented  to  the  Warrior 
Priest,  Bishop,  and  Major  General,  Polk.  This  gentle 
man  had  been  educated  at  West  Point,  but  subsequently 
took  orders,  and  had  become  bishop,  I  think,  of  Louisi 
ana.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  he  laid  aside  his 
lawn,  and  again  assumed  the  shoulder  straps.  He  had 
formerly,  in  1827,  been  commissioned  in  the  U.  S.  Army, 
as  second  lieutenant  of  artillery.  He  was  killed  in  1864 
during  General  Sherman's  Atlanta  march. 

General  Polk,  who  was  in  full  major-general's  uni 
form,  received  us  kindly,  and  shook  hands  with  us  all. 
He  was  a  rather  tall,  thin  fellow,  toothless,  and  bland 
to  a  degree.  He  talked  a  good  deal,  and  his  manner 
seemed  to  me  to  be  somewhat  flippant.  He  was  not  alto 
gether  priest  or  soldier,  and  the  admixture  of  the  manners 
of  both  was  not  happy.  However,  we  were  all  received 
very  cordially,  and  were  invited  into  the  cabin,  where 
we  took  a  drink  of  brandy  and  water  all  around,  to 
the  toast  of  "Washington  and  his  principles,"  a  senti 
ment  in  which  we  could  all  join,  no  matter  what  was 
the  color  of  the  uniform. 

General  Pillow  was  a  very  quiet,  gentlemanly  person, 
who  said  little.  Our  New  York  reporter  was  very  busy; 
he  kept  close  to  the  Secession  generals,  and  picked  up  his 


58    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

items  like  a  veritable  newspaper  bee.  After  a  while, 
champagne  was  brought,  and  as  there  seemed  to  be 
some  difficulty  as  to  the  ice,  we  offered  some  from  the 
stores  of  our  little  tug,  but  they  would  not  receive  it. 
Laughingly,  Dr.  Simons  and  I  promised  to  send  it  to 
them  some  day,  when  they  sent  us  a  flag  of  truce,  a 
promise  which  we  liberally  kept  a  few  days  later.  While 
the  seniors  were  talking  (of  what  I  never  had  the  faint 
est  idea),  the  two  staffs  fraternized,  and  we  had  a  very 
merry  time,  and  here  it  was  that  the  Herald  man  was 
overcome  by  the  enemy,  and  became  quite  hilarious. 

The  Confederate  surgeons  were  very  polite  to  me. 
They  took  me  on  shore,  and  I  passed  with  them  through 
the  streets  to  the  hospitals.  The  latter  were  poorly 
appointed,  but  the  inmates  were  apparently  in  good  con 
dition.  The  other  members  of  our  party  were  not  al 
lowed  to  land,  that  permission  being  accorded  only  to 
the  medical  officers.  The  people  in  the  streets  seemed 
squalid  and  unhealthy;  they  were  ragged  in  appearance, 
and  offensive  in  their  manner  and  words.  As  we  passed 
by  they  called  us  all  manner  of  names,  "Lincolnites," 
"Damned  Yankees,"  "Abolitionists,"  and  other  such 
pet-names.  Had  we  not  been  in  the  company  of  our 
Secession  friends,  we  would  indeed  have  fared  badly. 

The  uniforms  of  the  Confederate  officers  were  gen 
erally  of  a  shabby  dirty  gray,  with  a  good  deal  of  tinsel 
and  cheap  gold  lace  ornamentation,  entirely  too  much. 
Their  arms  were  poor.  Several  of  the  officers  were 
West  Pointers,  and  these  talked  freely  on  passing  events. 
Of  their  ultimate  success  they  seemed  to  be  certain. 
They  laughed  at  the  idea  of  defeat  or  subjugation. 
From  one  of  their  officers,  a  Captain  Blake,  of  Folk's 
staff,  I  learned  a  good  many  war  items,  of  confederate 
coloring,  interesting  to  me  then,  but  now  long  forgotten. 


Cairo,  1861  59 

Another  of  their  officers  was  a  Captain  Polk,  of  the 
same  staff.  He  had  been  educated  at  West  Point,  and 
was  a  nice  talkative,  rather  boastful  young  gentleman. 
We  had  a  good  deal  of  chat  among  ourselves,  during 
which  he  said  if  he  was  hurt,  he  would  rather  be  treated 
by  Northern  than  by  Southern  surgeons,  and  he  laugh 
ingly  added,  "Should  I  ever  be  wounded,  and  let  you 
know,  will  you  bring  me  into  your  lines,  and  take  care 
of  me?"  This  I  afterwards  did.  He  was  wounded  at 
the  Battle  of  Shiloh,  and  lay  outside  of  our  lines,  in  a 
little  Confederate  house  where  he  was  attended  by  his 
wife  and  friends.  He  wrote  to  me,  as  I  was  on  General 
Grant's  staff  at  the  time,  and  reminded  me  of  my  prom 
ise.  I  went  out  under  a  flag  of  truce  and  brought  the 
wounded  man  (as  also  two  or  three  pats  of  fresh  butter 
which  had  been  set  aside  by  Mrs.  Polk),  to  our  hos 
pital  transport,  as  I  shall  relate  hereafter. 

After  two  or  three  hours'  pleasant  chat,  we  prepared 
to  start  for  Cairo,  taking  with  us  a  few  of  our  wounded 
men.  Where  they  had  been  hurt  I  do  not  know, — 1  sup 
pose  in  the  various  skirmishes  which  were  constantly 
occurring  between  the  pickets  and  the  observation  parties 
of  the  two  armies. 

I  saw  at  this  time  quite  an  affecting  sight,  the  parting 
of  one  of  our  wounded  men  from  a  wounded  Confed 
erate  soldier.  They  had  been  wounded  in  the  same  en 
counter  ten  days  or  two  weeks  before,  had  lain  side  by 
side  in  the  same  hospital,  and  had  mutually  cared  for 
each  other.  They  seemed  loath  to  part,  and  their  leave- 
taking  was  strange  to  see. 

All  of  the  Secession  wounded,  who  were  able,  came 
down  to  the  wharf  to  see  our  wounded  placed  on  the 
boat,  and  the  good-byes  were  cordial  and  prolonged. 
We  then  steamed  away  to  Cairo,  not  in  our  little  tug, 


60    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

but  in  a  boat  of  theirs,  which  carried  us  to  our  own 
lines,  when  their  steamer  returned  to  Columbus.  And 
this  was  "Civil  War,"  and  this  my  first  observation  of  it. 
The  Confederate  officers,  whom  I  met,  spoke  freely  of 
their  commanders.  General  Joe  Johnston,  they  ranked 
first;  then  a  General  Smith,*  and  Beauregard.  General 
George  B.  McClellan  on  our  side,  they  had  a  high  opin 
ion  of;  but  they  considered  that  he  was  not  supported  by 
good  generals,  and  they  felt  confident  of  beating  him 
badly. 

On  my  return  to  Cairo  I  remained  on  duty  in  the 
office  of  the  Medical  Director  for  two  or  three  days, 
and  on  October  28th,  the  following  order  was  issued. 

"Headquarters  Dist.  S.  E.  Mo., 

Cairo,  Oct.  28,  1861. 
[SPECIAL  ORDER] 

Surgeon  James  Simons,  U.  S.  A.  Medical  Director, 
having  received  leave  of  absence,  Surgeon  John  H.  Brin 
ton  is  appointed  to  act  in  his  place.  He  will  be  obeyed 
and  respected  accordingly. 

BY  ORDER  OF  BRIG.  GEN'L.  GRANT. 

(Signed)     John  A.  Rawlins,  A.  A.  G. 
To  DR.   JOHN   H.   BRINTON, 

Brigade  Surgeon,  U.  S.  A." 

And  so,  at  Cairo,  after  two  months'  actual  service,  I 
found  myself  the  Medical  Director  of  a  geographical 
military  district  of  considerable  extent,  and  occupied  by 
many  thousand  troops.  To  superintend  medically  the 
welfare  of  so  large  a  command,  was  no  easy  work,  espe- 

*  Probably  Maj.  Gen.  Gustavus  W.  Smith  who  took  command,  for 
a  day  or  so,  of  the  Confederate  Army  before  Richmond  after  the 
wounding  of  Maj.  Gen.  Jos.  E.  Johnston  and  before  Robert  E.  Lee 
arrived  to  assume  command. — E.  T.  S. 


Cairo,  1861  61 

daily  when  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  most  of  these  men 
were  fresh  levies,  all  from  civil  life  and  many  from 
agricultural  districts.  In  fact,  as  far  as  their  health  was 
concerned,  they  might  almost  have  been  looked  upon  as 
children.  ("The  men  from  the  country  had  often  not 
passed  through  the  ordinary  diseases  of  child  life,  and 
no  sooner  were  they  brought  together  in  camps,  than 
measles  and  other  children's  diseases  showed  themselves, 
and  spread  rapidly.  The  malarial  influences  of  the  riv 
ers  too,  produced  a  most  depressing  effect  upon  men 
brought  from  higher  regions,  and  more  healthy  sur 
roundings.  /Violent  remittent,  intermittent  and  low 
typhoid  fevers  invaded  the  camps,  and  many  died.  The 
general  hygiene  was  bad,  the  company  and  regimental 
officers  did  not  know  how  to  care  for  their  men,  and 
the  men  themselves  seemed  to  be  perfectly  helpless. 
This  inability  to  take  care  of  themselves  seemed  to  me  to 
be  one  of  the  strangest  peculiarities  of  the  volunteers 
at  the  beginning  of  the  war.-  /  And  here  it  must  be  re 
membered  that  this  time,  the  summer  and  early  autumn 
of  1 86 1,  was  the  patriotic  era  of  the  national  volun 
teers.  "Conscription"  with  which  we  were  afterwards 
so  familiar,  had  not  yet  been  thought  of,  and  bounties, 
tempting  fat  bounties,  were  unknown.  Men  volun 
teered  willingly  for  the  war  and  in  a  patriotic  spirit; 
young  men  of  good  families  were  in  the  ranks,  men  of 
education  and  attainments.  In  many  instances,  farmers 
eagerly  became  soldiers,  and  left  their  families,  their 
farms,  and  their  business  without  hesitation.  These 
men,  numbers  of  them,  had  been  accustomed  to  think 
and  act  for  themselves,  and  to  take  care  of  others;  and 
yet  just  as  soon  as  they  entered  the  ranks  and  became 
soldiers,  it  seemed  as  if  all  individualism  was  lost;  they 
ceased  to  think  for  themselves,  and  became  incapable  of 


62    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

self -protection.  They  had  to  be  thought  for,  and  cared 
for  as  children, — they  were  no  longer  the  self-relying 
men  they  had  been  in  civil  life.  And  there  was  diffi 
culty,  too,  in  regard  to  their  caretakers,  for  the  men 
who  suddenly  found  themselves  officers  and  who  were 
the  natural  guardians,  as  it  were,  of  the  rank  and  file, 
were  utterly  inexperienced,  and  in  every  way  unaccus 
tomed  to  take  charge  of  others.  The  commissary  of 
subsistence,  whose  duty  it  was  to  feed  the  troops,  was, 
if  he  were  a  volunteer,  ignorant  of  the  details  of  his 
office.  So  also  was  the  quartermaster,  and  yet  on  the 
efficiency  of  these  officers  much  of  the  comfort  of  the 
private  soldier  depended. 

The  medical  officers,  the  regimental  surgeon,  and  the 
assistant  surgeon  were  in  a  somewhat  different  relation, 
for  they  brought  to  their  new  positions  the  professional 
attainments  of  civil  life,  and  they  had  only  to  apply 
their  every-day  knowledge  to  the  military  surroundings. 
Some  fresh  details,  it  is  true,  they  had  to  acquire,  but 
with  a  little  experience,  and  by  careful  study  of  the 
army  regulations,  supplemented  by  a  reasonable  share 
of  common  sense,  they  became  fitted  for  their  duties. 

The  brigade  surgeon  had  more  to  learn,  for  his  higher 
grade  placed  him  in  a  broader  field.  He  most  frequently 
found  himself  in  charge  of  general  hospitals  in  the 
larger  cities,  or  of  great  divisions  and  corps  hospitals 
with  armies  in  the  field.  In  many  instances,  however, 
he  advanced  at  once  to  the  grade  of  "medical  director" 
it  may  be  of  a  division  or  corps,  or  even  of  an  army 
itself.  In  these  instances  he  was  on  the  staff  of  the 
general,  who  depended  upon  him  in  no  slight  degree  for 
information  as  to  the  health  of  the  command,  and  as  to 
its  general  availability  for  active  operations.  His  sug 
gestions  were  usually  listened  to  kindly  and  respectfully, 


Cairo,  1861  63 

and  orders  touching  the  hygiene  of  troops  and  camps 
were  often  issued  at  his  instance.  From  my  own  ob 
servation,  I  would  say  that  the  greater  the  general  and 
the  more  liberal  his  views,  the  more  was  he  disposed 
to  listen  to  the  words  of  his  medical  director.  From 
all  this  you  will  understand  how  difficult  of  discharge 
were  the  duties  of  a  medical  director  of  a  district  or 
department  or  army,  and  how  delicate,  too,  at  times 
they  were.  It  was  his  province  to  see  to  the  health, 
as  it  were,  of  every  man  in  the  command;  to  so  pro 
vide  that  a  bed  should  be  ready  for  every  sick  or  wounded 
soldier  whenever  and  wherever  it  might  be  called  for ;  to 
see  that  medicines  and  medical  supplies  should  be  on 
hand  at  every  depot,  or  with  every  column;  and  to  an 
ticipate  all  future  demands  by  bringing  fresh  supplies 
from  the  central  stores.  Then  too  the  medical  director 
had  to  think  of  the  medical  officers  over  whom  he  was 
placed.  He  was  a  sort  of  bishop  to  his  military  flock; 
his  duty  was  to  help  on  the  diffident,  overworked,  or 
lagging;  to  encourage  by  advice  or  instructions  those 
who  might  be  perplexed  or  weary;  to  restrain  and  hold 
in  check  the  overzealous. 

It  was  oftentimes  no  easy  thing  to  answer  the  pointed 
questions  of  perplexed  regimental  surgeons,  who  in  the 
early  days  of  the  war  in  their  ignorance  of  the  "army 
regulations"  regarded  all  rules  as  fetters  and  denounced 
all  system  as  "red  tape."  These  officers,  yet  civilians  at 
heart,  felt  deeply  for  the  sick  and  injured  of  their  indi 
vidual  commands;  they  naturally  wished  to  procure  in 
stantly  for  them  those  things  of  which  they  stood  in 
need  and  they  disliked  the  formality  of  requisitions, 
which  they  deemed  unnecessary.  They  were  impatient 
of  delay,  and  yet  they  did  not  know  how  to  make  haste ; 
they  hurried  to  the  office  of  the  medical  director  for  in- 


64    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

formation,  and  he  alas!  (I  speak  for  myself)  often 
knew  little  if  any  more  than  his  questioners.  To  antici 
pate  a  little  the  story  of  my  own  doings  in  my  new  office, 
I  can  only  say,  that  "Men  learn  by  teaching,"  and  I 
learned  the  regulations,  and  how  to  do  things  by  study 
ing  these  same  regulations  and  by  trying  to  teach  others. 

And  then,  too,  a  little  later  than  this,  I  was  taught  a 
good  lesson  by  Captain,  now  General,  Hawkins,  U.  S.  A., 
then  in  the  subsistence  department.  "Doctor,"  he  said 
to  me  one  day,  when  I  consulted  him  on  some  puzzling 
paragraph  of  the  regulations,  "Do  this;  when  your 
servants  come  to  you  in  ignorance  and  want  to  know 
what  to  do,  tell  them  kindly  if  you  do  know.  If  you  do 
not  know,  open  the  book  of  regulations  for  them,  at  the 
proper  chapter,  tell  them  to  read  it  carefully  for  fifteen 
minutes  in  your  office,  and  then  they  will  understand  it. 
Should  they  not  do  so,  you  will  then  explain  it  to  them. 
And  then  run  down  to  my  office  or  General  Grant's, 
state  your  trouble,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  be  helped  out. 
You  will  not  have  to  do  so  often."  This  advice  I  fol 
lowed  literally,  and  never  did  I  in  my  ignorance  apply 
in  vain  either  to  my  good  friend  Hawkins,  or  to  the 
great  general,  who  seemed  to  me  to  be  amused  by  my 
troubles,  and  at  the  same  time  to  take  pleasure  in  helping 
me  out  of  them.  I  shall  have  much  to  say  of  him  as  I 
write,  and  I  will  not  now  anticipate,  as  I  prefer  to 
take  up  events  in  order,  so  that  you  can  judge  for  your 
selves  how  my  opinions  were  formed,  and  my  judgment 
crystallized. 

On  the  departure  of  Dr.  Simons  for  the  east,  I  found 
myself  with  a  load  on  my  shoulders;  yet  although  the 
responsibility  was  great,  at  times  almost  crushingly  so, 
I  did  not  dislike  it,  but  tried  as  well  as  I  was  able  to  be 
efficient,  and  somehow  or  other  got  along. 


Cairo,  1861  65 

For  a  few  days,  I  was  busy  enough,  inspecting  the 
regimental  camps,  examining  their  hospitals  and  assist 
ing  the  regimental  surgeons  in  obtaining  their  requisi 
tions,  by  which  I  mean  their  supplies  medical  and  other 
wise.  Everyone  supposed  that  we  would  pass  the  winter 
in  more  or  less  quietude,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Cairo; 
and  of  active  operations  we  had  little  anticipation  or 
knowledge.  I  see  from  my  letters  that  late  in  October 
the  staff  whispered  some  rumor  of  a  move  in  thirty  or 
forty  days,  but  whither  we  did  not  know.  Flags  of  truce 
were  occasionally  passing  to  and  fro  on  various  pre 
tences.  Southern  union  men  would  be  coming  north, 
or  men  from  the  north  with  southern  friends  would  be 
passing  southwards,  or  women  of  all  sorts  of  political 
proclivities  would  be  sent  over  the  lines,  sometimes  I 
daresay  freighted  with  letters  full  of  treason,  or  with 
percussion  caps,  or  morphia  and  quinine,  which  were  al 
ready  becoming  scarce  in  "Dixie's  Land."  These  flags 
of  truce  were  often  much  abused,  and  I  fancy  at  times 
did  a  good  deal  of  harm.  It  was  hard  to  vouch  for  the 
loyalty  of  those  who  availed  themselves  of  them.  I  have 
a  memorandum  of  a  pretended  union  man,  who  sprang 
from  a  truce  boat  into  the  stream  and  swam  for  the 
southern  shore,  which  he  failed  to  reach,  being  drowned 
in  the  attempt. 

One  of  the  earliest  difficulties,  and  one  of  the  most 
pressing  with  which  I  had  to  contend,  was  a  scarcity  of 
medical  men,  especially  of  young  medical  men,  who 
possessed  the  slightest  pretensions  to  decent  medical  at 
tainments.  The  regimental  officers  were  good  enough 
of  their  kind,  but  more  than  these  were  wanted  to  sup 
ply  the  depot  hospitals,  which  were  being  established  at 
various  points.  The  men  who  supplied  most  of  these 
subordinate  medical  positions  were  known  as  "contract 


66    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

physicians"  or  "doctors,"  to  use  the  common  phrase; — 
in  the  true  military  parlance  of  the  Surgeon  General's 
office  "acting  assistant  surgeons."  These  gentlemen  held 
no  commissions,  but  signed  a  contract  with  the  medical 
director  for  the  time  and  place  being,  which  contract 
would  be  approved  by  the  Surgeon  General  in  Washing 
ton.  The  pay  was  usually  from  eighty  to  one  hundred 
dollars  per  month,  and  was  charged  to  the  medical  appro 
priation,  expended  under  the  orders  of  the  Surgeon 
General. 

The  regular  paymaster  of  the  United  States  Army 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  contract  physicians.  The 
grade  of  medical  men  who  at  this  time,  early  in  the  war, 
held  these  positions,  was  often  low.  Many  ignorant 
physicians,  or  those  who  had  been  long  out  of  practice, 
if  indeed  they  ever  had  any,  obtained  contracts.  Not 
infrequently  it  happened  that  charlatans  and  impostors 
succeeded  in  forcing  themselves  into  these  appointments, 
and  the  soldier,  as  would  naturally  be  supposed,  suffered 
in  consequence.  This  condition  of  affairs  obtained  prob 
ably  to  a  greater  extent  in  the  western  armies  than 
elsewhere.  One  of  my  first  efforts  was  to  reform  this 
abuse,  as  far  as  I  could,  by  obtaining  a  better  class  of 
young  doctors  from  the  east,  and  from  some  of  the 
larger  cities,  but  the  scarcity  of  good  surgeons  to  do 
the  every-day  work  in  the  more  remote  hospitals  of  this 
region  was  undoubtedly  a  great  evil,  which  existed  for 
some  time  after  the  war  began  in  this  portion  of  our 
country. 

I  have  already  referred  to  General  Grant's  friendly 
treatment.  I  find  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  DaCosta,  dated 
Nov.  2Oth,  1 86 1,  this  allusion: 

"General  Grant  (an  old  regular)  is  very  kind  to  me 
and  helps  me  out  of  many  a  tight  place,  so  also  does 


Cairo,  1861  67 

Captain  Hawkins  (regular).  We  are  quite  intimate. 
Grant  is  a  plain,  straightforward,  peremptory  and 
prompt  man.  If  I  ask  for  anything  it  is  done  at  once, 
the  great  secret  in  all  military  matters." 

By  the  early  part  of  the  month  of  November,  my 
new  duties  had  become  very  pleasant  to  me,  and  I  had 
become  more  than  reconciled  to  my  position.  I  felt 
that  I  was  making  headway,  and  I  could  see  daylight 
ahead.  My  chief  trouble  at  this  time  was  the  malarial 
influence  of  the  country.  Cairo  enjoys,  and  I  think  most 
deservedly,  the  reputation  of  being  thoroughly  unhealthy, 
and  this  bad  reputation  had,  up  to  this  time  of  which 
I  am  speaking,  always  acted  as  hindrance  to  its  develop 
ment.  One  would  suppose  that  the  location  of  the  town, 
on  the  tongue  of  land  at  the  very  confluence  of  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi  Rivers,  would  have  been  in  itself 
sufficient  to  insure  its  rapid  progress.  But  the  place  had 
lagged  in  its  growth,  despite  the  attempts  of  speculators 
to  force  it.  It  was  here,  I  think,  that  many  years  ago, 
a  sort  of  colony  had  been  established,  in  which  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Ely,  a  man  of  wealth,  and  the  father-in-law  of  the 
late  Dr.  Samuel  McClellan,  the  uncle  of  General  Mc- 
Clellan,  was  largely  interested.  Money,  a  great  deal  of 
money,  was  spent  here,  but  the  immediate  outcome  was 
a  disappointment  to  all  concerned.  The  place  could 
only  grow  by  commerce,  and  this  took  time.  Topograph 
ically  considered,  as  a  stopping  place  of  exchange,  or 
inland  port  for  the  steamers  of  the  two  great  rivers  and 
their  tributaries,  Cairo  was  exceptionally  favored.  On 
the  other  hand,  as  a  pestilential  hole  fraught  with  all 
malarial  poisonous  influences,  the  town  unquestionably  is 
preeminent.  The  levee,  a  high  stone  bank  on  the  Ohio 
River  side  was  a  good  one,  and  at  the  time  I  went  to 
Cairo,  a  good  many  steamers  were  coming  and  going. 


68    Personal    Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

On  the  top  of  the  levee  was  the  railroad  track,  which  ran 
down  to  the  St.  Charles  Hotel,  near  the  end  of  the  tongue 
of  land.  The  levee,  of  course,  was  made  of  land,  and 
nearly  all  of  the  houses  and  warehouses  on  it  were  of 
wood.  SafTord's  Bank,  then  used  as  the  headquarters 
building,  was,  I  think,  almost  the  only  stone  or  brick 
structure.  The  levee  and  its  bordering  buildings,  were 
infested  with  rats,  many  of  them  of  a  very  large  size, 
and  at  night  they  swarmed  out  of  their  holes.  I  have 
often  known  them  to  be  crushed  by  the  wheels  of  the 
railroad  cars. 

Cairo  at  this  time  was  not  altogether  a  pleasant  place, 
but  yet  I  learned  to  like  it,  and  I  soon  came  to  care  very 
little  about  the  rats,  although  I  never  could  quite  bring 
myself  to  think  kindly  of  the  swarms  of  merchants,  ped 
dlers,  produce  dealers,  and  the  like,  who  infested  the 
levee,  and  its  neighborhood.  Yet  I  must  make  an  excep 
tion,  there  was  one  fellow,  hook-nosed  and  black-bearded, 
who  sold  everything  and  anything,  and  especially  apples 
of  such  size,  color  and  tartness,  as  I  have  never  met  since. 
These  apples  were  my  delight,  for  the  craving  for  acid 
fruit  was  upon  me.  The  truth  was  I  was  beginning  to 
feel  the  influence  of  the  climate  and  was  becoming 
malarious  and  jaundiced.  This  was  a  wretched  condition 
to  fall  into ;  I  did  my  best  to  fight  it  off,  but  to  no  use.  I 
stuck  to  my  office  and  did  my  routine  work,  but  was 
scarcely  able  to  go  downstairs  to  my  meals,  or  to  see  any 
thing  of  General  Grant's  staff,  of  which  I  was  a  tem 
porary  member,  although  I  had  an  idea  that  something 
was  in  the  wind,  but  what,  I  knew  not. 

At  last,  horribly  nauseated,  I  was  compelled  to  take  to 
my  bed.  One  of  the  ladies  in  the  house,  a  Mrs.  Turner, 
an  Englishwoman,  and  the  wife  of  a  sort  of  an  English 


Cairo,  1861  69 

doctor  under  contract,  kindly  saw  to  having  some  food 
sent  to  me,  but  which  I  could  not  eat.  I  felt  wretched, 
and  finally  on  the  morning  of  November  6th,  after  hav 
ing  been  in  bed  nearly  two  days,  my  nausea  was  so 
excessive  that  I  put  a  large  mustard  plaster  on  the  pit 
of  my  stomach,  hoping  for  some  relief.  The  plaster 
had  just  begun  to  burn  comfortably  and  pleasantly,  and 
I  was  trying  to  force  down  a  few  mouth fuls  of  soup, 
when  Mrs.  Turner  knocked  at  the  door,  and  then  came 
hurriedly  in  to  tell  me  that  the  General,  with  a  good 
force,  was  on  the  eve  of  starting  to  attack  the  enemy, 
somewhere  or  other.  "And  you  won't  be  able  to  go," 
she  added.  The  importance  and  suddenness  of  her  in 
formation  started  me,  and  begging  her  to  go  out  of  the 
room,  away  went  my  mustard  plaster,  and  I  was  out  of 
bed  in  a  minute,  poultice  on  the  floor,  hunting  for  my 
clothes,  with  my  head  swimming,  and  myself  in  a  gen 
erally  disordered  condition.  I  managed  to  get  into  my 
uniform,  and  hurried  downstairs  to  the  General's  office. 
He  welcomed  me  warmly,  saying  that  thinking  I  was 
too  sick  to  go,  he  had  ordered  that  I  should  not  be  dis 
turbed,  and  at  once  directed  that  I  should  be  provided 
with  the  best  horse  available. 

The  charger  with  which  I  was  supplied  deserves  a 
fuller  mention.  He  was  loaned  to  me  by  the  quarter 
master,  and  was  a  roan  stallion,  possessed  of  few  virtues, 
and  many  vices,  like  Byron's  corsair.  Chief  among  the 
latter  were  his  proneness  to  kick,  and  the  delight  he 
experienced  in  bending  his  neck  around  and  biting  the 
rein.  He  gave  me  much  trouble  early  in  the  day,  but 
later  proved  himself  a  faithful  creature.  Having  pro 
cured  him,  I  made  the  best  arrangements  I  could  for 
the  medical  department,  and  then  provided  for  myself; 


70    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

that  is  to  say,  I  had  my  india-rubbers  and  blankets 
strapped  to  my  saddle,  and  confided  my  instruments  to 
the  care  of  my  clerk,  who  was  to  act  as  my  orderly. 
Equipped  and  prepared  for  whatever  event  of  war  might 
happen,  I  waited  our  departure. 


CHAPTER    V 

THE  BATTLE  OF  BELMONT 

In  the  meantime,  the  troops  were  being  embarked, 
chiefly  infantry,  of  which  there  were  five  regiments, 
two  companies  of  cavalry,  and  two  guns,  in  all,  a  little 
over  three  thousand  men.  It  took  a  good  deal  of  time 
to  get  all  the  troops  safely  on  board  and  the  expedition 
did  not  start  until  afternoon.  Under  the  convoy  of  a 
couple  of  gunboats,  the  "Tyler,"  and  the  "Lexington," 
commanded  by  Captains  Walker  and  Stemble,  U.  S.  N., 
it  steamed  down  the  Mississippi  and  anchored  on  the 
Kentucky  shore  about  six  miles  above  Columbus.  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  however,  that  of  what  took  place  during 
this  afternon  and  evening  and  night,  I  knew  very  little. 
I  was  quite  ill,  in  fact,  scarcely  able  to  stand,  and  with 
the  General's  permission,  I  lay  down  in  a  berth  until 
my  services  were  necessary.  Here  I  slept  pretty  well 
until  it  was  morning,  when  all  were  aroused,  as  the 
expedition  steamed  across  the  river,  and  prepared  to 
disembark  the  troops  on  the  Missouri  shore,  just  about 
three  miles  above  Belmont.  I  should  say  here  that  I 
accompanied  General  Grant  in  the  "headquarters'  boat," 
and  that  as  Medical  Director  of  the  District,  I  was  the 
ranking  surgeon  of  the  command,  and  the  Medical  Di 
rector  in  the  field. 

Shortly  after  sunrise  the  disembarkation  of  the  troops 
was  completed,  and  the  men  were  drawn  up  in  lines  at 
right  angles  to  the  river,  extending  in  front  of  a  corn- 

71 


72    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

field  and  out  into  the  woods.  Pickets  were  immediately 
thrown  out  and  the  whole  force  prepared  to  advance. 
It  was  while  the  disembarkation  was  being  effected,  that 
for  the  first  time  I  saw  a  shot  fired  in  earnest.  It  hap 
pened  thus:  The  bluffs  above  Columbus  are  very  high 
on  the  Kentucky  side,  I  cannot  really  say  how  high,  but 
the  batteries  appeared  to  be  high  up  in  the  air,  and  the 
guns  were  very  large,  some  of  them  I  afterwards  learned 
being  rifled  columbiads  of  ten  or  eleven  inches  bore. 
They  were  distant  from  our  transports  about  three  miles, 
perhaps  a  little  less.  As  I  stood  on  the  front  of  our 
boat,  a  transport,  I  saw  a  puff  of  smoke  afar  off,  and 
in  a  few  seconds  a  huge  projectile  flew  past  us,  and  far 
above  our  heads.  It  was  not  exactly  in  line,  and  was 
rather  high,  and  so  passed  harmlessly  by,  falling  far  to 
our  right.  But  the  man  who  fired  this  shot  soon  im 
proved  his  aim,  for  when  the  next  puff  showed  itself,  it 
seemed  to  give  birth  to  a  black  line,  at  first  well  up  above 
the  Mississippi,  but  gradually  sinking  as  it  came  nearer. 
It  seemed  to  me  to  be  making  a  bee-line  for  my  eye,  but 
fortunately  changed  its  mind,  and  passing  above  our 
heads,  and  apparently  between  our  smoke  pipes,  buried 
itself  in  the  dirt  of  the  Missouri  bank  of  the  river.  I 
was  immediately  seized  with  a  covetous  desire  to  possess 
that  shot,  and  thereupon  offered  two  darkies  on  the  boat 
half  a  dollar  apiece  if  they  would  dig  it  out  for  me. 
They  at  once  set  to  work,  and  as  I  went  up  the  bank, 
I  left  them  digging  away  industriously.  The  next  day 
they  presented  me  the  shot,  which  was  a  round  conical 
shell  about  eighteen  inches  long,  which  had  been  filled 
with  lead,  and  fired  as  a  solid  shot.  I  paid  the  money 
and  secured  the  prize,  but  found,  when  I  had  it,  that 
it  was  an  elephant  on  my  hands.  When  I  left  Cairo 


The  Battle  of  Belmont  73 

I  left  it,  and  what  became  of  it  I  never  knew.  I  daresay 
it  is  a  household  ornament  somewhere  at  this  moment. 

The  shots  of  the  enemy  were  replied  to  by  our  gun 
boats,  and  I  could  see  the  shells  from  their  big  sixty- 
four-pounders  bursting  over  the  buttresses  on  the  bluffs. 
On  reaching  the  level,  a  sort  of  clearing  in  front  of  a 
cornfield,  with  wood  roads,  one  leading  towards  Bel 
mont,  and  one  off  to  the  right,  I  found  our  army,  for 
I  must  so  dignify  the  expeditionary  force,  forming  in 
line  of  battle,  ready  to  move  onwards.  It  was  a  grand 
and  new  sight  to  me  to  see  how  real  war  was  to  be 
carried  on.  I  am  afraid  that  at  first  I  thought  more 
of  that  than  of  my  own  particular  department,  so  I 
could  not  help  riding  up  and  down  the  line  to  take  it 
all  in.  The  early  autumnal  morning  was  delightful; 
the  air  fresh  and  invigorating,  without  being  cold;  and 
while  I  was  still  nauseated,  it  seemed  to  do  me  good.  As 
I  have  already  told  you,  1  had  been  provided  by  the 
quartermaster  with  a  vicious  roan  horse.  I  had  not  at 
first  very  much  confidence  in  him,  he  had  such  an  ugly 
look.  Nor  do  I  think  that  he  had  any  great  trust  in 
me,  since  he  showed  a  marked  unwillingness  to  suffer 
me  to  mount  him.  Then  too  I  was  heavily  encumbered 
with  a  surgeon's  paraphernalia,  but  finally  with  the 
assistance  of  several  soldiers,  to  wit,  one  to  hold  the  beast 
by  the  head,  one  to  keep  him  from  turning  around  side 
ways  to  bite,  and  one  or  two  to  boost  me  up,  I  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  saddle,  and  when  at  last  ensconced,  felt 
confident  of  my  position  and  certain  that  nothing  short 
of  an  earthquake  would  unseat  me. 

So  I  trotted  fearlessly  along  the  line  of  soldiers,  when 
suddenly  my  horse  gave  an  extraordinary  sort  of  jump, 
forward  one  time,  backward  one  time,  then  a  sensation 
of  vibratory  unrest,  and  then  da  capo,  one,  two,  three; 


74    Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brlnton 

and  the  more  I  said  "Whoa,  boy,  be  quiet/'  and  tried 
to  stroke  the  horse's  neck,  the  more  he  essayed  this  con 
founded  buck  jump.  Then,  too,  the  more  I  tried  to  look 
unconcerned,  the  more  the  men  laughed.  I  felt  quite 
sure  I  should  not  be  thrown,  I  was  too  deeply  entrenched 
in  my  saddle  for  that;  but  why  couldn't,  or  why 
shouldn't  that  wretched  horse  stand  still!  Soon  the 
mystery  was  solved.  A  kindly  looking  soldier  stepped 
up  to  my  side,  and  raising  the  scabbard  of  my  sword, 
showed  me  that  the  end  of  it  had  dropped  off,  and  the 
sharp  point  of  the  blade  was  pricking  the  rear  hind 
leg  of  the  animal  at  every  step,  which  was  more  than 
horse  flesh  could  stand.  So  I  saw  at  once  that  I  could 
not  wear  the  sword  that  day,  and  took  it  off,  and  left  it 
for  the  time,  at  a  little  one-story  house  on  the  edge  of 
the  woods,  which  I  had  occupied  as  a  field  hospital, 
and  had  placed  in  charge  of  my  friend,  Dr.  Amos 
Witter,  of  an  Iowa  regiment, — the  same  who  had  spent 
a  night  with  me  at  Mound  City. 

The  good  doctor  kindly  took  charge  of  my  sword,  but 
this  was  the  last  I  saw  of  it,  for  later  in  the  day,  as  our 
forces  were  returning  to  their  boats,  the  enemy  followed 
rapidly,  and  occupied  this  building  before  our  wounded 
were  fairly  out  of  it.  As  I  afterwards  learned,  my 
sword  passed  into  the  possession  of  a  southern  surgeon, 
and  I  hope  he  had  a  new  end  put  on  the  scabbard. 

One  of  my  first  cares  was  to  make  the  best  arrange 
ments  I  could  to  take  care  of  the  wounded  (should  there 
be  any),  when  brought  to  the  rear.  The  little  hospital 
I  have  referred  to  was  organized,  and  I  then  rode  on  in 
search  of  headquarters,  which  I  knew  would  be  well  to 
the  front.  The  command  had  plunged  into  the  woods, 
advancing  rapidly,  and  my  only  guide  was  the  firing, 
which  was  becoming  every  moment  more  and  more 


The  Battle  of  Belmont  75 

heavy,  showing  that  the  fight  had  begun  in  earnest.  I 
was  alone,  but  anxious  to  rejoin  my  General,  so  I  spurred 
on  my  horse,  sometimes  keeping  to  a  wood  path,  and  at 
other  times  striking  through  a  primitive  forest,  as  the 
firing  led  me.  The  first  wounded  man  I  saw  was  an 
Irishman,  who  had  been  grazed  in  the  abdomen  by  a 
bullet.  He  was  lying  on  the  ground,  alone,  and  yelling 
with  pain.  The  injury  was  insignificant,  but  his  mental 
perturbation  was  great.  When  I  told  him  the  truth,  he 
became  calm,  and  gathering  himself  up,  marched  off  for 
the  transports.  The  next  day  I  saw  a  fearful  case;  a 
shell  had  exploded  behind,  but  close  to,  the  back  of  a 
soldier.  He  was  dying  when  I  saw  him  and  evidently 
in  a  dreadful  condition,  so  I  dismounted  to  render  him 
what  help  I  could.  I  have  never  seen  a  worse  wound, 
before  or  since.  The  whole  of  the  skin  and  muscles  of 
the  back  from  the  nape  of  the  neck  to  the  thighs  and  on 
both  sides  of  the  spine  had  been  torn  away,  as  if  the 
tissues  had  been  scooped  out  by  a  clean-cutting  curved 
instrument.  The  surfaces  were  raw  and  bleeding,  and 
the  sight  was  a  horrible  one,  and  one  which  I  have  never 
forgotten.  In  a  moment  or  two  he  expired,  and  I  re 
mounted  and  rode  on. 

In  looking  over  my  letters,  I  find  one  to  Dr.  DaCosta, 
dated  November  zoth,  1861,  from  which  I  think  it 
worth  while  to  quote  a  few  sentences: 

"At  6.30  on  Thursday  morning,  we  disembarked  four 
miles  above  Columbus  on  the  Missouri  shore.  Our 
force  consisted  of  2,800  men  in  four  steamboats  and 
two  gunboats,  with  one  hundred  men  each,  and  six 
sixty- four-pounders,  in  all  3,000  men  with  a  number  of 
brass  guns,  and  about  250  cavalry." 

"I  was  mounted  on  a  fast  horse  I  had  got  from  the 
Quartermaster,  a  kicking  beast.  We  immediately  threw 


76    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

out  scouting  parties,  and  as  we  commenced  to  do  so,  the 
first  shot  was  fired  from  the  bluff  batteries  at  Columbus. 
This  was  replied  to  by  our  gunboat  64'$,  and  I  could 
see  the  shell  bursting  right  over  the  enemy's  pieces. 
Their  shots  passed  over  our  gunboats,  which  now  ran 
down  below  our  point  of  disembarkation  and  threw  their 
shell  quite  lively.  I  now  pressed  forward  with  the  staff, 
a  half  mile.  Here  we  found,  in  order  of  battle,  ten 
pieces  of  artillery  in  the  rear,  two  in  the  advance,  and 
the  infantry  thrown  out  on  the  wings.  As  Chief  Medi 
cal  Officer,  I  then  directed  the  surgeons  to  take  position 
on  the  margin  of  a  wood,  and  at  that  moment,  with 
heavy  volleys  of  musketry,  our  whole  line  advanced, 
driving  in  skirmishes  of  the  enemy.  As  I  considered 
our  rear  unprotected,  I  ordered  our  hospital  up  nearer 
the  main  body,  stationing  them  in  a  little  log  hut,  our 
main  hospital.  I  then  seized  all  the  water,  placed  it 
under  guard,  stationed  my  surgeons,  ordered  the  as 
sistant  surgeons  to  their  regiments,  and  advanced  myself 
to  the  front.  I  shortly  met  men  being  carried  to  the 
rear;  the  first  man  had  his  hand  shot  off,  the  second  his 
arm  blown  away,  and  his  whole  back  torn  by  a  shell.  As 
I  advanced  slowly  to  the  front,  with  my  orderly  carry 
ing  my  instruments,  I  arrested  temporarily  the  hemor 
rhage  of  the  wounded  I  met,  and  ordered  the  ambulance 
wagons  to  hurry  to  the  hospitals,  and  then  to  return  to 
the  front;  all  I  am  now  speaking  of  took  only  ten  min 
utes  or  thereabouts,  and  shortly  the  heavy  dull  roar  of 
artillery  burst  through  the  woods,  and  the  fire  of  mus 
ketry  was  continuous  and  rolling,  as  much  so  on  both 
sides  as  at  a  review.  We  now  reached  a  cornfield,  and 
came  in  range  of  the  batteries,  and  here  a  good  many 
were  killed,  but  our  boys  cheered  and  dashed  on,  driving 
the  enemy  before  them,  storming  their  guns  and  taking 


The  Battle  of  Belmont  77 

them.  Most  of  the  mounted  officers  lost  their  horses 
from  the  rifle  fire.  Passing  the  cornfield  I  again  pushed 
into  the  woods  for  a  mile  or  more,  dressing  the  wounded 
as  I  went,  and  kept  moving  slowly  on.  After  a  long 
time,  we  having  by  this  time  gone  forward  some  two 
and  a  half  or  three  miles,  we  came  to  an  open  plateau, 
immediately  behind  Belmont,  and  exactly  opposite  Co 
lumbus.  Here  I  had  a  fine  view  of  the  artillery  practice. 
The  gunners  changed  the  position  of  their  guns  several 
times,  and  finally  opened  on  the  camp  of  the  enemy  at 
two  or  three  hundred  yards. 

"The  enemy  retreated  under  the  bank  of  the  river, 
and  sought  refuge  under  the  fire  of  their  guns  from 
Columbus.  We  then  burned  all  their  tents,  while  a  brisk 
fire  of  shell  was  kept  up  on  us  from  the  opposite  bluff. 
Fortunately  their  range  was  too  high,  the  shell  passing 
through  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  making  a  terrific 
racket.  Here  I  attended  a  number  of  wounded  officers. 
In  a  little  while  our  men  formed  into  an  irregular  col 
umn,  and  as  they  were  doing  so,  I  saw  the  pipes  of 
two  steamers  going  up  the  river.  I  thought  to  myself, 
'These  cannot  be  our  gunboats,'  and  so  rode  up  to  Gen 
eral  Grant  and  pointed  them  out  to  him.  He  would  not 
at  first  credit  these  as  the  enemy's  transports  until  I 
drew  his  attention  to  their  course,  as  shown  by  the  direc 
tion  of  the  motion  of  their  pipes;  he  then  expressed 
surprise,  but  immediately  ordered  our  men  into  line. 
Very  shortly  after  this,  a  force  of  the  enemy  appeared 
on  our  right,  in  the  direction  of  the  river,  and  somewhat 
later  a  considerable  body,  in  regular  order,  advanced 
from  the  woods,  into  the  opening  on  our  left.  Whether 
these  troops  were  the  runaways  whom  we  had  driven 
under  the  bank  of  the  river,  or  the  fresh  reinforcements, 
or  both,  I  never  knew. 


78    Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

"Our  men  quickly  went  into  line  of  battle,  but  still 
in  considerable  confusion;  some  were  tired  out,  and  some 
did  not  care  much  about  further  fighting.  Here  the 
volunteer  spirit  showed  itself;  they  had  done  their  day's 
work,  and  wanted  to  go  home." 

"I  now  mounted  some  wounded  men  on  wagons,  put 
an  officer  or  two  on  an  artillery  caisson,  and  threw  out 
a  judicious  suggestion,  as  I  thought,  to  some  officers, 
relative  to  hurrying  their  men  into  line,  and  then  stopped 
to  look  on.  The  two  lines  stood  bravely  up,  exchanged 
a  few  volleys,  and  our  men  pushed  on  towards  our 
original  landing  place,  Generals  Grant  and  McClernand 
leading.  We  had  a  number  of  wounded  whom  we  did 
not  bring  off.  I  should  have  told  you  that  we  had 
already  taken  some  160  prisoners,  four  guns,  and  about 
thirty  horses.  We  brought  off  the  horses  and  two  guns, 
spiked  two  others,  and  left  one  caisson  behind.  Our 
whole  command  now  pushed  vigorously  on,  and  I 
started  with  it,  but  was  stopped  by  Major  Butler." 

From  what  I  have  written,  you  will  have  learned  that 
I  followed  our  army  as  fast  as  I  could,  merely  stopping 
to  give  the  necessary  directions  on  my  way.  On  my 
arrival  at  the  open  Belmont  plateau,  the  fighting  was 
still  going  on,  the  enemy  were  retreating,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  their  tents  were  in  flames.  I  busied  myself 
in  gathering  up  our  wounded,  and  in  sending  them  to 
the  rear  hospital,  directing  the  slightly  injured  to  walk, 
and  putting  those  who  were  more  seriously  injured  into 
such  wagons  as  we  possessed.  It  was  at  this  time  that 
I  joined  General  Grant,  when  the  fire  was  pretty  hot, 
and  the  big  guns  on  the  bluffs  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river  were  beginning  to  open.  He  was  good  enough 
to  tell  me  that  a  doctor  had  no  business  there,  and  to  get 
away.  However,  I  had  business  there  in  caring  for  our 


The  Battle  of  Belmont  79 

wounded,  and  I  did  what  I  could.  Then  when  our 
exodus  or  retreat  was  ordered,  I  watched  our  people 
rallying  in  line,  and  I  thought  that  even  if  they  had 
scattered  a  little  to  pillage  the  enemy's  camp,  they  were 
still  a  brave  set  of  men.  Some  of  them,  however,  were 
as  I  thought,  foolish,  notably  one  officer,  evidently  a 
German,  who  had  two  pieces  of  artillery  in  charge, 
which  he  held  upon  low  ground,  while  the  enemy  were 
hurrying  up  in  good  force.  I  was  standing  on  a  little 
hill  and  saw  the  possible  catastrophe,  "Come  up  here,"  I 
called  to  him,  "bring  your  guns  up  here."  He  did  so  in 
a  twinkling,  when  I  ordered  him  to  open  on  the  ap 
proaching  gray  mass.  This  he  did  right  manfully,  and 
after  a  couple  of  rounds,  the  gray  column  passed  to 
the  right  and  out  of  sight.  My  major's  shoulder  straps 
seemed  to  inspire  him  with  confidence,  and  he  did  what 
I  told  him,  even  to  trotting  off  with  his  guns,  when  the 
rest  of  our  men  moved  backward. 

About  this  time,  I  learned  for  the  first  time  the  sound 
of  a  bullet.  A  good  many  big  trees  were  on  the  ground, 
buttonwood  trees  they  were,  which  had  either  fallen  or 
had  been  cut  down,  when  the  camp  was  formed.  Their 
leaves,  dried  and  withered,  were  yet  on  the  boughs,  and 
I  could  hear  all  around  me  the  whiz  of  the  bullets,  and 
the  dry  pat  as  they  cut  through  the  dead  leaves.  At  first 
I  could  not  think  what  the  noise  was,  but  soon  one  fel 
low  came  unpleasantly  near  my  ear,  and  as  I  saw  and 
heard  the  dry  leaves  rip  and  fly,  and  saw  the  holes  which 
were  left,  I  then  knew  what  it  all  meant.  Then,  too, 
men  were  hit  near  me  and  I  began  to  feel  uncomfortable ; 
I  felt  as  if  I  would  like  to  ride  away,  but  I  knew  it 
would  never  do  to  show  fear,  even  if  I  was  afraid,  so  I 
walked  my  horse  over  to  where  General  Grant  was, 
which  drew  upon  me  the  kind  of  rebuke  I  have  told  you 


80    Personal    Me?noirs  of  John  II.  Brinton 

of.  In  my  heart,  I  do  not  think  I  deserved  it,  for  I  am 
afraid  I  was  afraid. 

Yet  all  the  same  I  had  my  wits  about  me  for  I  noted 
a  good  many  curious  events  passing  around  me.  I  par 
ticularly  remember  a  Confederate  soldier,  who  had  been 
shot  in  the  left  arm,  for  he  was  supporting  his  elbow 
with  his  right  hand.  He  was  a  tall  fellow,  in  butternut 
brown  trousers,  and  without  a  coat  or  hat.  He  was 
evidently  suffering  great  pain,  and  the  pain  had  produced 
a  peculiar  excited  delirium.  He  noticed  nothing  which 
was  transpiring  around  him,  nor  did  he  even  seem  to 
see  our  soldiers,  but  he  kept  steadily  running  up  and 
down,  forwards  and  backwards,  by  the  side  of  a  huge 
fallen  tree,  always  turning  exactly  at  the  same  point  and 
retracing  his  steps  to  and  fro,  jumping  over  some  bush 
at  each  tour.  I  watched  him  for  some  minutes  with 
curiosity  and  was  about  to  ride  up  to  him,  when  my 
attention  was  diverted  by  the  stream  of  our  passing  men, 
and  I  saw  the  necessity  of  following  them,  if  I  wished 
to  avoid  being  taken  prisoner,  so  I  turned  my  horse's 
head  and  moved  off  with  our  men. 

The  enemy  were  in  front  of  us  as  we  were  then 
marching,  facing  towards  our  boats,  and  the  firing  was 
rather  brisk,  but  we  were  pushing  them,  and  they  were 
giving  way,  allowing  our  men  to  force  their  passage. 
As  I  rode  with  them,  a  Southern  officer  dressed  in  a 
gray  uniform,  and  lying  on  the  ground  in  a  fence  angle 
of  a  clearing,  called  to  me,  asking  me  to  dismount  and 
help  him,  "if  you  are  a  gentleman."  Urgent  as  the 
position  of  affairs  was,  I  could  not  resist  his  appeal.  I 
dismounted,  knelt  down  by  him,  examined  him,  and 
found  that  he  had  been  shot  through  the  liver,  and  was 
rapidly  sinking.  He  told  me  that  his  name  was  Butler, 
"Major  Butler  of  Louisiana,"  that  he  had  formerly 


The  Battle  of  Belmont  81 

been  Secretary  of  Legation  at  Berlin,  and  that  he  was 
a  grandson  of  Mrs.  Lewis  Washington,  or  Washington 
Lewis,  of  Clarke  County,  Virginia.  He  said,  too,  that 
his  mother  had  been  a  school  friend  of  Mrs.  George 
McClellan.  He  asked  me  how  long  he  could  live.  I 
answered  "but  a  very  short  time."  He  then  said  to  me: 
"Please  send  a  message  to  my  father, — by  the  first  flag 
of  truce, — tell  him  how  you  found  me, — and  tell  him, 
too,  that  I  died  as  behooved  me,  at  the  head  of  my 
men."  I  did  all  I  could  for  him,  stimulating  him  from 
my  flask.  He  was  very  grateful  and  said,  "Oh,  Doctor, 
I  wish  I  had  met  you  before  this."  He  begged  me  to 
remain  with  him,  and  when  I  told  him  that  our  troops 
were  on  their  way  to  their  boats,  he  offered  to  protect 
me  while  he  lived,  if  I  would  only  stay.  I  assured  him 
that  his  own  people  would  find  him,  and  that  I  must 
go.  So  I  mounted  and  reluctantly  left  him  on  the 
ground.  I  afterwards  learned  that  he  was  carried  alive 
to  Belmont,  but  died  shortly  after  reaching  the  town. 
I  was  also  informed  from  home  that  his  mother  had 
been  one  of  the  bridesmaids  of  my  Aunt  McClellan. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  I  also  received  a  letter 
from  Ex-Governor  Vroom  of  New  Jersey,  formerly  our 
United  States  Minister  to  Prussia,  at  Berlin,  stating  that 
Major  Butler  had  been  his  Secretary  of  Legation,  and 
that  he  had  been  a  very  clever  fellow. 

On  leaving  poor  Butler,  I  rode  after  our  retreating 
army,  but  no  sooner  had  I  reached  the  verge  of  the 
woods  than  I  found  myself  confronted  with  quite  a 
number  of  our  gray-clad  enemies.  I  came  upon  them 
suddenly,  and  they  instantly  covered  me  with  their  rifles. 
Fortunately  for  myself,  I  wore  a  civilian's  overcoat  of 
black  cloth,  and  my  uniform  was,  therefore,  not  very 
conspicuous.  I  immediately  raised  my  hand  in  a  depre- 


82    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

catory,  and  at  the  same  time  in  an  authoritative  sort  of 
a  way,  and  they  lowered  their  guns.  In  a  moment,  and 
almost  instinctively,  I  wheeled  my  horse  to  the  left, 
struck  him  hard  with  my  spurs,  and  dashed  through  a 
dogwood  thicket,  and  was  out  of  their  sight  in  half  the 
time  I  have  taken  to  write  the  last  line.  My  horse 
carried  me  splendidly,  and  seemed  to  understand  the 
exigencies  of  the  situation.  The  men  tried  hard  to  fol 
low  me,  but  I  was  well  mounted,  and  they  were  on  foot, 
and  the  bushes  thick,  and  so  I  escaped. 

I  have  spoken  of  my  spurs;  let  me  say  here  that  those 
I  wore  in  this  action  were  the  silver  ones  marked 
"George  Brinton,  September  nth,  1779,"  and  which 
descended  direct  to  me  'from  my  great-grandfather,  hav 
ing  been  made  from  silver  dollars.  I  wore  them  this 
day,  so  that  I  could  say  they  had  been  used  in  battle,  and 
I  feel  sure  that  they  will  be  honorably  worn  hereafter  by 
my  descendants. 

Leaving  my  enemies  behind  me,  I  rode  at  random,  not 
knowing  my  true  course,  and  after  a  long  circuit,  I 
again  struck  one  corner  of  the  battle  field,  over  which 
I  rode  alone.  It  was  desolate  enough  now;  there  were 
no  active  combatants  upon  it,  only  the  dead  and 
wounded.  I  left  it  as  soon  as  I  could,  and  again  sought 
for  our  men,  or  our  gunboats,  but  somehow  or  other  I 
rode  in  exactly  the  opposite  or  wrong  direction,  and 
emerged  from  the  wood  upon  the  river  bank,  along  which 
ran  a  road  between  an  open  field  and  the  river.  Here, 
on  the  fence,  I  found  two  old  darkies,  one  of  whom  was 
blind  and  the  other  lame.  At  first  they  seemed  afraid 
of  me,  but  when  they  saw  I  was  a  Union  officer — in 
their  own  lingo,  "one  of  Massa  Linkum's  sojers,"  their 
confidence  returned.  I  told  them  how  I  came  there  and 
that  I  wanted  to  reach  the  gunboats  above.  I  could 


The  Battle  of  Belmont  83 

scarcely  believe  my  ears  when  they  told  me  that  I  was 
far  below  Columbus,  and  I  even  doubted  my  eyes  when, 
looking  up  the  river,  I  could  see  the  whereabouts  of  the 
town.  I  took  some  five-dollar  gold  pieces  out  of  my 
pocket,  and  offered  one  to  each  of  them,  if  they  would 
pilot  me  to  the  boats.  This  they  were  afraid  to  do,  but 
they  tried  to  do  the  next  best  thing,  namely,  to  show 
me  how  to  find  my  own  way.  The  blind  man  seemed 
to  be  the  intellectual  partner,  and  he  told  his  lame  col 
league  to  draw  with  his  stick  in  the  dust  of  the  road  a 
chart  of  the  course  I  should  follow.  This  he  did,  and 
then,  thanking  him  heartily,  I  left.  I  must  add  here  that 
they  absolutely  refused  to  accept  the  money  from  me, 
their  reiterated  reason  for  not  doing  so  being  "that  I 
was  Linkum's  sojer." 

So  again  I  struck  into  the  woods,  determined,  if  I 
could  not  reach  our  boats,  to  make  the  best  of  my  way 
to  Bird's  Point  opposite  Cairo,  twenty-five  miles  higher 
up.  As  I  had  neither  guide  nor  compass,  I  must  have 
steered  in  an  uncertain  course.  I  remember  wondering 
at  the  time  how  Robinson  Crusoe  felt  when  he  discovered 
his  own  footmarks.  After  a  while  I  fell  in  with  an 
other  wanderer,  and  we  two  went  quietly  together 
for  a  little  way,  when  we  differed  as  to  our  course  and 
parted,  he  going  his  way  and  I  mine.  And '  here  let 
me  add  as  sequel  this  curious  coincidence.  More  than  a 
year  and  a  half  afterwards,  when  I  was  stationed  at 
Washington,  I  was  travelling  in  the  train  from  Baltimore 
to  Washington.  In  front  of  me  sat  a  most  dilapidated 
and  gaunt  man,  without  decent  clothing.  He  mentioned 
to  his  neighbor  that  he  was  just  from  Andersonville 
(the  dreaded  Confederate  prison  camp  in  Georgia) 
where  he  had  been  taken  after  his  capture.  "And  when 
were  you  captured?"  he  was  asked.  "On  the  seventh  of 


84    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

November,  1861,"  he  replied.  Hearing  that,  I  leaned 
forward  and  asked  him  if  he  had  been  captured  at 
Belmont,  Missouri.  He  took  a  long  look  at  me,  and  then 
said,  "Major,  your  way  was  right,  after  all — mine  was 
wrong,  for  it  led  me  to  Andersonville,  which  I  have 
just  left."  He  was  on  his  way  to  Washington  to  report 
his  case.  I  was  always  sorry  that  I  did  not  learn  his 
name  and  follow  him  up.  The  second  meeting  was  odd 
indeed,  odder  still  that  he  was  able  to  recognize  me. 

To  return  to  my  ride,  after  parting  company  with  the 
unbeliever,  as  before  described,  I  wandered  aimlessly 
around,  trying  to  keep  a  general  direction  parallel  to 
the  Mississippi  River.  Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  a  dense 
forest  of  primeval  trees,  I  was  startled  by  the  loud  re 
port  of  a  heavy  gun,  directly  in  front  of  me,  and  by 
the  whiz  and  bursting  of  a  shell  in  the  tops  of  the  trees 
above  my  head.  It  instantly  flashed  on  my  mind  that 
there  must  be  a  force  of  the  enemy  just  ahead  of  me, 
and  that  our  gunboats  were  firing  into  them,  with  pos 
sibly  too  great  elevation  of  their  guns.  I  checked  my 
horse  at  once,  and  stopped  to  think  what  I  had  best  do. 
If  I  advanced,  I  should  inevitably  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  if  they  were  where  I  supposed  them  to 
be.  If  I  rode  backwards,  I  would  run  the  risk  of  being 
killed  by  our  own  shells,  which  were  falling  behind  me. 
I  felt  very  uncomfortable,  not  so  much  at  the  idea  of 
being  hurt,  as  at  the  idea  of  being  away  from  all  assist 
ance  in  case  of  injury.  My  horse,  too,  became  demor 
alized;  he  stopped  and  shook  all  over  and  there  seemed 
to  be  none  of  the  spirit  of  the  morning  in  him.  Then, 
to  add  to  it  all,  a  great  shell  struck  the  top  of  the  tree 
under  which  we  were  standing,  and  cut  all  of  the  upper 
part  of  it  squarely  off,  and  down  it  fell,  point  foremost; 
I  remember  it  all  most  distinctly  how  that  stem  of  the 


The  Battle  of  Belmont  85 

tree  looked  as  it  struck  the  ground  perpendicularly.  Just 
then  the  direction  of  the  fire  seemed  to  shift,  and  the 
missiles  seemed  to  strike  more  in  front  and  to  my  left. 
So  I  rode  away,  and  after  a  while  struck  the  bed  of  an 
unfinished  railroad.  Along  this  I  rode  for  some  time, 
and  then,  hearing  voices,  I  reined  in  my  horse,  and 
waited  to  see  who  might  be  coming.  Soon  I  saw 
through  the  trees  (here  of  small  size)  a  body  of  horse, 
in  our  uniform.  I  joined  them,  and  found  that  I  had 
fallen  in  with  Dollin's  cavalry,  an  independent  company 
of  cavalry  attached  to  our  command.  They  seemed  to 
be  in  rather  a  bewildered  condition,  and  their  leader, 
noticing  the  major's  gold  leaf  on  my  shoulder  straps, 
consulted  with  me,  and  indeed  asked  me  to  tell  him  what 
to  do.  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  much  of  a  soldier,  but  I 
have  a  dread  of  being  surprised  or  taken  at  a  disadvan 
tage,  and  I  observed  that  just  at  that  moment  we  were 
in  a  most  dangerous  position,  and  that  if  attacked  in  any 
force,  we  might  all  be  destroyed  or  captured.  We  were 
riding,  all  huddled  together,  with  an  impassable  slough 
of  mud  and  water  close  on  our  right.  I  suggested  that 
we  should  move  more  to  the  left,  throw  our  scouts  out 
on  the  left  side  and  in  advance,  and  march  rapidly  and 
quietly.  This  was  done,  and  after  advancing  in  this 
order  for  some  distance,  we  were  able  to  cross  the 
swamp,  and  bearing  to  the  right,  we  came  on  a  sort  of 
road,  and  soon  reached  a  poor  log  house.  The  occu 
pants  pretended  to  know  nothing  as  to  the  position  of 
the  river,  or  the  whereabouts  of  our  boats  and  troops. 
We  were  about  to  take  a  guide  by  force,  under  the  per 
suasion  of  a  cocked  pistol,  when  one  of  the  women 
recognized  me.  She  was  the  mistress  of  the  little  cabin 
or  farm  house  I  had  occupied  as  a  hospital  early  in  the 
morning.  In  doing  so,  I  had  given  particular  orders 


86    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

that  her  property  should  be  respected,  and  these  had 
been  obeyed.  Bitter  rebel  as  she  was,  she  was  grateful 
for  what  I  had  done  for  her,  and  seeing  me,  she  volun 
teered  to  send  her  young  son  along  to  show  me  the  way 
to  a  road,  whence  I  could  reach  the  point  of  the  morn 
ing's  disembarkation.  The  boy,  after  having  been 
warned  as  to  the  probable  results  of  treachery,  trotted 
along  quietly  enough  by  my  side  until  we  reached  the 
turn  of  the  road  near  the  river,  where  I  left  my  cavalry 
friends,  and  riding  on,  soon  saw  one  of  our  gunboats 
looking  for  stragglers.  I  hailed  the  boat,  and  was  told 
to  ride  on  further,  where  I  could  find  a  transport  moored 
to  the  shore.  This  I  did  and  reached  the  boat  about 
half  a  mile  higher  up  the  river,  and  after  some  little 
trouble,  succeeded  in  leading  my  horse  down  the  steep 
bank  and  crossing  the  gangplank,  thus  placing  both  him 
and  myself  in  safety.  By  the  time  I  embarked,  it  was 
dark,  and  I  was  quite  worn  out.  I  had  been  in  the 
saddle  almost  since  daybreak,  without  food,  and  what 
was  worse,  without  water,  save  one  or  two  horrid  mouth- 
fuls  I  was  forced  to  take  from  the  half  stagnant  water 
of  the  slough  or  swamp,  or  back  water,  whatever  it 
might  have  been  called. 


CHAPTER    VI 

INCIDENTS  OF  THE  FIGHT 

During  this  day's  long  ride,  several  little  matters  fell 
under  my  observation,  which  may  perhaps  be  of  interest. 

In  the  first  place,  I  might  have  been  shot  by  a  cow 
ardly  hound  of  our  command.  As  I  was  riding  forward 
in  the  morning  toward  Belmont,  I  came  across  a  fellow, 
unhurt  and  fully  armed,  who  had  evidently  skulked  away 
from  his  company,  and  was  on  his  way  to  the  rear,  or 
to  some  place  of  safety.  I  came  on  him  suddenly,  saw 
what  he  was  after,  and  demanded  his  name,  company, 
regiment.  Taken  unawares  and  off  his  guard,  he  an 
swered  me,  and  I  have  no  doubt,  truly.  I  added,  "you 
are  a  coward  and  are  skulking,  and  I  will  report  you," 
and  then  I  rode  on.  In  a  second  or  two  I  had  an  instinc 
tive  feeling  that  the  fellow  might  shoot  me.  Looking 
back  over  my  shoulder,  I  saw  him  deliberately  aiming  at 
me,  at  a  distance  of  scarcely  ten  yards.  I  turned  my 
horse  to  one  side  and  drew  my  pistol.  My  movements 
disconcerted  the  man,  and  he  slipped  away  behind  a 
fallen  tree.  I  was  too  busy  to  think  of  him,  and  rode 
on,  but  I  always  felt  that  my  escape  was  a  narrow  one. 

I  was  much  struck  this  day  with  the  behavior  of 
animals  when  terrified.  Thus,  my  horse,  when  he  and 
I  were  exposed  to  the  terrific  shell  fire  of  the  gunboats, 
was  thoroughly,  may  I  say,  "unhorsed."  He  was  no 
longer  the  kicking,  fractious  beast  of  the  morning.  He 
was  entirely  subdued,  and  trembled  and  shook,  and 

87 


88    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

seemed  scarcely  able  to  stand.  Then,  too,  he  appeared 
to  recognize  me  as  his  master,  and  when  I  dismounted 
to  see  the  wounded  he  showed  no  disposition  to  wan 
der  or  leave  me,  but  stood  with  his  nose  close  to  me.  It 
was  scarcely  necessary  to  hold  his  bridle,  he  was  so 
quiet  and  companionable. 

Again,  when  I  rode  over  the  field  alone,  several  mules 
followed  me  closely, — they  could  not  get  too  close  to 
me.  One  fellow  in  particular,  without  a  bridle,  a  big 
white  creature,  with  extraordinary  ears,  stuck  to  my 
side,  as  if  we  had  been  friends  all  our  lives.  I  suppose 
he  was  what  was  then  called  a  "secesh  mule"  captured  or 
set  free  at  the  destruction  of  the  enemy's  camp.  I 
mounted  more  than  one  wounded  man  on  him,  and  he 
did  not  fall  behind.  It  was  upon  him  that  a  poor  lad, 
not  more  than  sixteen  or  seventeen,  who  had  been  shot 
through  the  lung,  died.  I  reported  his  case  in  my  paper 
on  "The  Instantaneous  Rigor  of  Sudden  or  Violent 
Death,"  in  the  American  Journal  of  the  Medical  Sci 
ences.  In  this  lad's  case,  the  rigor  was  so  quick  and 
marked  that  I  had  much  difficulty  in  removing  his  body 
from  the  animal,  so  tightly  were  the  legs  clasped  around 
the  sides  of  the  mule.  This  string  of  mules  accompanied 
me  until  I  reached  the  river  bank. 

One  other  incident  relative  to  the  behavior,  not  of 
animals,  but  of  men,  remains  in  my  mind.  While  the 
lower  deck  of  one  of  our  transports  was  filled  with  men, 
a  flock  of  duck  or  geese  settled  in  the  river,  not  very 
far  from  the  boat.  At  the  same  time  a  small  output  of 
the  enemy  appeared  on  the  bank,  and  a  desultory  fire 
was  opened  on  our  men  in  the  boat.  This  was  returned 
from  one  side  of  the  boat,  while  the  men  on  the  opposite 
side  practiced  at  long  range  on  the  birds.  This,  I  think, 


Incidents  of  the  Fight  89 

occurred  at  or  before  the  disembarkation  in  the  morn 
ing. 

The  shelling  of  the  woods,  which  occurred  as  I  ap 
proached  the  river,  took  place,  as  I  learned  afterwards, 
through  a  force  of  the  enemy  in  the  cornfield  and  woods 
incautiously  exposing  themselves  to  the  fire  of  our  gun 
boats.  The  latter  was  very  effective  and  caused  great 
loss  to  the  enemy.  Some  of  these  shells  flying  high 
passed  over  my  head,  and  caused  me  to  infer  the  pres 
ence  of  an  enemy  in  front  of  me. 

After  reaching  the  transport,  and  getting  my  horse 
safely  on  board,  I  went  up  to  the  Captain's  office,  in 
the  "Texas,"  to  see  the  Captain.  He  was  just  uncork 
ing  a  bottle  of  "champagne.''  I  have  tasted  many  a  glass 
of  wine  since,  but  never  one  which  tasted  better  than 
did  the  fictitious  champagne  of  that  evening. 

In  the  cabin  of  the  steamer,  I  found  about  sixty  or 
seventy  wounded  men,  and  one  or  two  surgeons.  I 
joined  them  and  had  plenty  to  do  as  we  steamed  up  the 
river.  On  our  arrival  at  Cairo,  the  wounded  were  im 
mediately  sent  to  the  post  hospital,  under  the  care  of 
Dr.  Burke,  and  to  the  regimental  hospitals,  which  had 
been  organized  in  the  town. 

We  reached  Cairo  about  nine  or  ten  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  and  I  immediately  hurried  to  the  telegraph 
office  to  telegraph  my  safety  to  my  mother.  The  oper 
ator  expressed  much  surprise  at  seeing  me,  and  said, 
"Doctor,  you  have  just  come  in  time,  I  was  just  about 
to  send  this  paragraph  east,"  and  he  read  me  this  slip: 
"Surgeon  Brinton,  the  Medical  Director,  was  killed;  he 
was  seen  to  drop  from  his  horse  under  the  enemy's 
fire."  This  looked  very  odd  to  me,  and  while  I  felt 
sure  it  could  not  be  true,  yet  to  prevent  mistakes,  I  did 
telegraph  my  safety,  and  this  I  learned  afterwards  was 


90    Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

one  of  the  early  intimations  in  Philadelphia  that  a  battle 
had  been  fought.  The  night  following  the  battle  was 
for  me  a  busy  one,  but  there  was  plenty  of  help,  and 
the  wounded  were  soon  comfortably  housed  in  the  hos 
pitals  I  have  referred  to. 

On  summing  up  my  experience  in  my  first  battle,  I 
see  from  my  letters  home  that  at  that  time  I  felt  I  had 
gotten  well  through  the  day's  incidents.  I  had  done  my 
professional  duty  as  well  as  a  new  man  could,  and  then, 
having  kept  close  to  headquarters,  I  had  acquired  some 
little  credit  as  a  valiant  doctor,  which,  by  the  way,  I  do 
not  think  was  particularly  deserved,  for  after  all,  in  a 
battle  with  long-range  weapons,  the  rear  is  almost  as 
dangerous  as  the  front.  I  certainly  was  very  fortunate 
in  escaping  capture,  wandering  as  I  did  at  random,  and 
with  no  sense  of  the  points  of  the  compass,  or  of  the 
direction  of  our  forces.  I  know  that  I  determined  to 
procure  for  myself  at  once  a  compass,  and  that  I  wrote 
home  asking  that  a  good  serviceable  instrument  be  sent 
me. 

For  the  few  days  following  the  battle,  I  was  kept 
very  busy,  not  only  by  the  administrative  duties  of  the 
medical  director's  office,  but  also  by  the  professional 
work  I  did.  The  surgeons  under  me  were  willing,  but 
as  surgeons,  they  were  inexperienced,  and  I  had  to  do 
many  operations,  and  also  teach  them  how  to  do  them. 

Here  let  me  relate  a  little  anecdote  of  one  of  my 
surgeons,  a  member  of  one  of  the  Illinois  regiments. 
He  was  a  very  earnest  man,  but  at  that  time  rather 
deficient  in  professional,  or  at  all  events,  surgical  train 
ing.  In  his  hospital  lay  a  patient  whose  leg,  seriously  in 
jured,  demanded  amputation.  The  surgeon  came  to  my 
office  one  afternoon,  confessing  that  he  had  never  done, 
and  had  never  seen  an  amputation,  and  moreover  had 


Incidents  of  the  Fight  91 

no  idea  how  one  should  be  done,  and  begged  me,  at  the 
appointed  time,  to  perform  the  operation  for  him.  I 
explained  to  him  that  this  would  never  do;  his  position 
in  the  regiment  demanded  that  he  himself  should  remove 
the  limb.  And  then  I  explained  to  him  how  the  ampu 
tation  should  be  done,  and  made  him  go  through  the 
motions,  promising  him  that  I  would  help  him  through 
when  the  time  came.  On  the  following  morning  I  did 
so,  and  he  operated  very  well,  and  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  lookers  on.  Somehow  or  other  this  amputation 
established  his  reputation.  He  at  once  took  rank  as  an 
experienced  surgeon;  nor,  better  still,  did  his  newborn 
confidence  desert  him,  for  at  the  battle  before  Fort  Don- 
elson,  some  months  afterwards,  I  was  informed  by  one 
of  the  hospital  stewards  that  a  great  surgeon  was  busy 
operating  in  one  of  the  field  hospitals  in  the  rear  of 
our  lines.  I  at  once  rode  over  to  see  who  this  person 
was,  and  found  the  operator  busy  in  the  second  story  of 
a  little  country  house,  to  which  many  wounded  men 
were  being  carried. 

I  found  bloodstained  footmarks  on  the  crooked  stairs, 
and  in  the  second-story  room  stood  my  friend  of  Cairo 
memory ;  amputated  arms  and  legs  seemed  almost  to  lit 
ter  the  floor;  beneath  the  operating  table  was  a  pool 
of  blood,  the  operator  was  smeared  with  it  and  the 
surroundings  were  ghastly  beyond  all  limits  of  surgical 
propriety.  "Ah,  Doctor,"  said  the  new-fledged  surgeon, 
"I  am  getting  on,  just  look  at  these,"  pointing  to  his 
trophies  on  the  floor  with  a  right  royal  gesture.  And 
after  all  he  seemed  to  have  done  good  work,  and  from 
that  time  he  was  a  recognized  surgical  authority  among 
his  confreres. 

At  this  point  I  must  record  the  sad  loss  of  my  cher 
ished  surgical  instruments.  On  entering  the  service,  I 


92    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

had  not  drawn  from  the  Medical  Purveyor  any  of  the 
surgical  instruments  issued  by  the  Government.  They 
were,  in  fact,  good  enough,  and  a  fair  selection,  but  I 
preferred  to  use  my  own,  and  I,  therefore,  carried  with 
me  a  select  assortment.  Many  of  these  I  had  brought 
with  me  from  Paris;  others  which  had  formerly  be 
longed  to  the  late  Professor  Mutter,  my  old  preceptor, 
had  been  given  to  me  after  his  death,  by  Dr.  S.  Weir 
Mitchell,  who  had  either  inherited  them,  or  received 
them  as  a  gift  from  Dr.  Mutter's  widow.  All  of  my 
stock  of  surgical  tools  had  been  wrapped  together,  and 
in  the  hurry  of  leaving,  not  having  time  to  select,  I  took 
with  me  the  package  containing  all,  onto  the  field  at 
Belmont.  I  unstrapped  the  package  from  my  saddle, 
and  gave  it  to  my  orderly,  a  lad  of  eighteen  or  twenty, 
to  carry  for  me.  But  alas !  under  the  artillery  fire  from 
the  bluffs,  he  became  greatly  demoralized,  and  in  utter 
fright  ran  away,  and  I  remember  distinctly  seeing  him 
"scudding"  off  holding  the  heavy  package  on  his  head 
with  his  two  hands.  It  was  a  ludicrous  sight,  to  watch 
him  disappear  from  the  open  into  the  woods,  and  with 
him  my  precious  instruments,  none  of  which  I  ever  saw 
again.  Both  were  captured  and  the  instruments  fell 
into  the  possession  of  a  Mississippi  surgeon,  who,  as  I 
learned,  shortly  went  to  his  home,  taking  my  instruments 
with  him.  I  made  a  touching  complaint  to  General 
Grant,  who  on  a  flag  of  truce  later  attempted  to  get  my 
possessions  back,  but  obtained  nothing  but  the  above 
history  of  their  whereabouts.  However,  the  General 
was  good  enough  to  offer  to  barter  in  my  behalf, — thus : 
It  seems  we  had  captured  a  cream-colored  pony,  which 
had  been  given  by  a  lady  to  a  Confederate  officer.  He 
was  a  beauty,  with  long  silver  tail  and  mane,  and  his 
former  possessor  was  as  anxious  to  recover  him  as  I 


Incidents  of  the  Fight  93 

was  to  obtain  my  instruments.  An  exchange  was  pro 
posed,  but  it  never  was  consummated.  My  instruments 
are,  I  suppose,  still  in  the  South,  and  the  pony,  too 
conspicuously  dangerous  to  be  ridden  in  action,  was  sold 
for  a  trifle  and  sent  to  Chicago.  As  to  this  charger,  I 
remember  that  we  were  told,  that  his  former  "secesh" 
owner  and  his  friends  had  threatened  that  they  would 
shoot,  if  they  could,  any  Northerner  who  might  ride 
him.  He  was  said  to  be  of  Arabian  stock. 

I  append  here  the  reports  which  I  made  of  the  Battle 
of  Belmont,  to  General  Grant: 

"Medical  Director's  Office, 

Cairo,  Missouri,  Nov.  20,  1861. 

General : — 

I  have  the  honor  to  submit  the  following  list  of 
soldiers,  wounded  in  the  recent  fight  at  Belmont,  Mo. 
The  total  number  of  injured  as  reported  to  this  office 
amounts  to  274.  Of  these  as  will  be  seen  by  reference 
to  the  subjoined  statement,  10  have  already  died. 

It  should,  however,  be  stated  that  from  one  Regiment, 
viz.,  the  7th  Iowa,  no  report  has  as  yet  been  received. 
The  number  of  casualties  to  this  corps  have  been  more 
in  number  than  in  any  other  regiment,  and  when  the  re 
port  of  the  Surgeon,  Dr.  Witter,  shall  have  been  received, 
the  list,  as  already  submitted,  will  probably  be  augmented 
by  some  30  or  35  names.  The  reason  for  the  delay  in 
regard  to  the  report  of  the  7th  Iowa  arises  from  the 
fact  that  immediately  after  the  7th  inst.  the  regiment  was 
ordered  to  Benton  Barracks,  one  portion  of  the  wounded 
being  left  behind  at  this  place,  and  in  Mound  City,  whilst 
another  portion  were  taken  northward  with  the  Regi 
ment. 

Many  of  the  wounded  at  present  in  our  Department 
and  General  Hospital  present  cases  of  unfavorable  na 
ture,  owing  to  the  fact  that  they  fell  into  the  hands  of 


94    Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  enemy,  and  were  left  exposed  on  the  field  of  battle 
for  at  least  eighteen  or  twenty-four  hours.  Had  the 
Medical  Department  of  your  command  been  provided 
with  the  proper  ambulance  train,  this  disastrous  and 
mortifying  result  might  have  been  readily  avoided.  The 
only  means  of  transportation  for  the  wounded  which  I 
had  were  two  or  three  army  wagons,  which  I  obtained 
from  the  Quartermaster's  Department,  and  these  being 
destitute  of  springs,  and  the  country  over  which  they 
passed  being  woody  and  rough,  the  wounded  suffered 
much  unnecessary  pain. 

I  would  state  that  Surgeon  Gordon  of  the  — 3Oth  111. 
and  Asst.  Wm.  Whitnell  of  the  3ist  111.  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy  and  are  still  prisoners.  It  affords 
me  pleasure  to  testify  to  the  efficiency  of  Brigade  Sur 
geon  Stearns  and  the  corps  of  surgeons  generally,  and 
I  would  especially  instance  the  conduct  of  the  Asst. 
Surgeon  Kendall,  of  the  Cavalry,  who  freely  exposed 
himself  under  fire  in  his  efforts  to  rescue  and  aid  our 
wounded. 

Very  respy.  yr.  Obt.  Servt. 

J.   H.   BRINTON, 
Brigade  Surgeon  and  Act.  Medical  Director. 

Brigadier  General  Grant, 

Commanding." 


CHAPTER    VII. 

CAPE  GIRARDEAU,    MO. CAIRO,   ILL. 

On  the  1 4th  of  November,  1861,  I  received  the  fol 
lowing  order  in  the  handwriting  of  General  Grant: 

"Head.  Qts.  S.  E.  Mo. 

Cairo,  Nov.  14,  1861. 
SPECIAL   ORDER 

NO.  — 

Surgeon  J.  Brinton,  Medical  Director,  will  proceed  as 
soon  as  possible  to  Cape  Girardeau,  Mo.  to  inspect  the 
hospitals,  and  to  make  such  changes  and  orders  as  he 
may  deem  necessary  for  the  benefit  of  the  sick. 

(Signed)     U.   S.   GRANT, 

To  Brig.  Gen.  Com. 

Surgeon  J.  Brinton, 
Medical  Director, 
Cairo,  111." 

Accordingly,  on  the  I5th  of  November,  I  came  up 
to  the  town  of  Cape  Girardeau,  sixty  miles  above  Cairo, 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Mississippi  River,  and  in  Mis 
souri.  My  business  was  to  inspect  the  hospital,  for 
there  was  a  regiment  or  so  stationed  there.  Of  this, 
I  remember  little,  but  the  town  itself  made  a  strong  im 
pression  on  my  mind.  It  was  not  an  American  town, 
but  a  French  one,  a  remainder  from  the  French  occupa 
tion  of  this  region,  and  consisted  almost  wholly  of  one 
long  narrow  street  leading  upwards  from  the  river,  with 

95 


96    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

high  flag1  stones  for  crossings,  and  deep  ruts  for  wagons, 
almost  as  in  the  days  of  Pompeii.  The  houses  were  low, 
mean  looking,  and  with  projecting  roofs  or  eaves. 
French  was  the  language  of  the  town;  and  the  air  of 
quietness  and  repose,  which  prevailed,  almost  banished 
the  idea  of  civil  contest.  I  stayed  at  an  inn,  which 
strongly  reminded  me  of  a  little  aubfoge  at  a  miniature 
town  some  twenty  miles  distant  from  Marseilles,  where 
I  was  once  landed,  and  where  the  whole  population 
came  out  to  assist  the  customs  officers  in  the  inspection 
of  my  very  modest  valise. 

On  the  1 7th  of  November,  I  found  myself  at  Cairo, 
and  on  the  i8th  or  iQth,  started  with  General  Grant  and 
his  staff,  and  a  good  force  of  men,  on  an  expedition  after 
General  "Jeff"  Thompson,  who  was  raiding  somewhere 
or  other  on  the  Missouri  side  of  the  Mississippi  River. 
Our  expedition  was  well  planned,  two  commands  hav 
ing  been  directed  to  converge  to  meet  our  own  at  a 
given  point,  where  and  when  it  was  supposed  that  "Jeff" 
would  be  cut  off  and  caught.  But  he  was  too  wary  a 
swamp  fox  to  be  thus  trapped.  At  the  appointed  spot, 
we  found  only  a  few  released  Union  prisoners  with  a 
note  from  Thompson,  addressed  to  General  Grant,  stat 
ing  that  as  he  had  released  more  Union  prisoners  than 
his  opponent,  the  latter,  meaning  General  Grant,  was 
"still  so  many  men  in  his  debt."  I  remember  that  Gen 
eral  Grant  was  greatly  amused  at  this  incident,  and 
showed  the  note  to  his  staff,  with  full  appreciation  of 
the  joke.  So  we  returned  to  Cairo  without  our  prisoner, 
and  "Jeff"  went  off  through  the  swamps. 

At  this  time,  at  Cairo,  we  were  much  annoyed  by 
newspaper  correspondents,  who  were  ever  on  the  look 
out  for  news,  and  who  did  not  hesitate  to  thrust  them 
selves  forward  on  any  pretext.  A  flag  of  truce  was  for 


Cape  Girardeau,  Mo. — Cairo,  III.  97 

them  a  great  opportunity,  and  as  "flags"  not  infrequently 
passed  between  Cairo  and  the  enemy,  every  effort  was 
made  by  these  gentry  to  accompany  them.  On  one  oc 
casion,  three  of  them  smuggled  themselves  on  a  truce 
boat.  They  got  entrance  by  carrying  on  their  heads 
cots, — as  the  boat  was  about  to  bring  up  wounded. 
Once  on  board,  they  stowed  themselves  away,  but  were 
soon  detected  by  the  Colonel  in  command.  He  imme 
diately  locked  them  up  in  the  wheelhouse  and  gave  them 
no  food  for  twelve  hours,  and  one  of  them  by  accident, 
or  possibly  by  intention,  was  sent  to  the  guardhouse  on 
the  return  of  the  "flag"  to  Cairo.  Here  he  stayed  for 
a  week  and  only  obtained  his  liberty  by  writing  to 
General  Grant.  The  victims  in  this  matter  kept  very 
quiet,  but  the  joke  was  too  good  to  be  kept,  and  the 
effect  upon  obtrusive  correspondents  was  useful  and  last 
ing. 

During  these  months  I  suffered  a  good  deal  from 
boils,  in  fact,  physically,  I  was  wretched  and  could 
scarcely  move.  At  one  time,  I  had  eleven  of  these 
wretched  sores  in  full  blast.  I  was  then  living  in  a 
suite  of  rooms  in  a  little  shanty  near  the  St.  Charles 
Hotel,  but  below  the  levee.  The  building  was  a  sort 
of  annex  to  a  restaurant,  and  I  had  the  floor  to  myself. 
The  restaurant  was  kept  I  think,  by  a  German,  who 
furnished  a  fare  much  above  the  western  diet.  My 
Thanksgiving  dinner  was  a  great  success,  turkey,  dressed 
celery  and  mince  pie.  The  latter  I  think  was  made  of 
dried  apples,  and  the  meaty  part  had  a  peculiar  flavor, 
suggestive  of  levee  rats  and  Chinese  ideas. 

By  the  end  of  November,  a  good  many  troops  had 
been  collected  at  Cairo,  and  of  course,  with  them,  came 
a  number  of  surgeons;  almost  all  were  western  men, 
from  Illinois,  Iowa,  Michigan  and  Missouri  chiefly. 


98    Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Many  of  these  were  rough,  but  I  think  that  at  first  I 
underrated  them.  Their  hearts  were  good,  and  they  were 
professionally  zealous.  In  order  to  bring  them  together 
and  for  our  mutual  improvement,  we  organized  the 
"Army  Medical  and  Surgical  Society  of  Cairo,"  which 
met  once  a  week  at  the  Medical  Purveyor's  business 
quarters.  A  good  deal  of  interest  was  shown  by  the 
members,  and  our  discussions  were  prolonged,  and  I  now 
think  that  they  must  have  been  useful.  The  society 
flourished  and  continued  its  existence  long  after  I  left 
Cairo. 

The  town  of  Cairo  was  essentially  a  frontier  town 
on  the  very  borders  of  "Secessia."  The  proximity  of 
the  enemy,  and  the  sending  of  occasional  flags  of  truce, 
thus  afforded  good  opportunities  for  the  transmission  of 
private  letters  to  friends  within  the  lines  of  the  rebellion. 
In  this  way  loyal  families  could  communicate  with  their 
relatives  in  the  south.  All  such  letters  passed  through 
the  military  headquarters,  and  baskets  full  of  such  let 
ters  would  accumulate,  awaiting  transmission.  When 
the  privilege  of  sending  a  letter  was  granted,  it  was 
understood  that  it  would  not  be  abused,  and  that  the 
communication  should  not  contain  any  military  infor 
mation  or  treasonable  news.  Letters  were  sent  open, 
and  were  liable  to  inspection  at  headquarters.  This  duty 
General  Grant  occasionally  imposed*  on  the  different 
members  of  the  staff,  and  very  tiresome  and  disagreeable 
it  was  to  read  other  people's  letters. 

A  prominent  Southern  physician  was  at  that  time  liv 
ing  in  Philadelphia.  He  was  anxious  to  write  to  his 
family,  and  a  mutual  personal  friend  wrote  me,  begging 
that  I  would  have  his  letter  passed  through  without  the 
usual  examination  of  contents ;  assuring  me  on  the 
writer's  word  of  honor  that  nothing  improper  would  be 


Cape  Girardeau^  Mo, — Cairo,  III.  99 

conveyed.  On  my  mentioning  the  request  to  General 
Grant,  he  at  once  assented,  but  added  that  for  form's 
sake,  he  would  ask  me  to  open  the  letter  and  assume 
all  responsibility  in  the  matter,  and  he  would  consider 
the  enclosure  as  examined,  and  order  it  passed  on.  I 
did  so,  and  at  once  saw  that  the  sheet  was  full  of  trea 
sonable  military  information  as  to  the  Northern  forces, 
their  disposition,  strength  and  commanders.  Without 
a  word,  I  cast  the  dishonorable  note  into  the  fire  on  the 
hearth.  The  General  smiled,  and  simply  said,  "I  ex 
pected  as  much;  I  am  not  surprised." 

I  mention  this  to  show  how  little  honor  prevailed  at 
this  time  in  places  where  one  had  a  right  to  expect  good 
faith. 

On  the  2Qth  of  November,  Dr.  John  K.  Kane  ar 
rived  from  Philadelphia.  I  had  previously  written, 
telling  him  that  if  he  wished  to  see  something  of  military 
surgery,  I  would  make  a  contract  with  him.  This  I 
did  immediately  on  his  arrival,  and  assigned  him  to 
duty  as  a  "resident  surgeon"  at  the  depot  hospital,  which 
was  then  under  the  charge  of  an  Irishman  named  Dr. 
Burke,  an  eccentric,  jealous,  assuming  man.  He  soon, 
I  think,  took  to  Dr.  Kane,  and  they  got  along  very 
nicely,  although  Kane's  daily  ablutions  in  an  india-rubber 
bath  tub  were  at  first  regarded  as  a  very  undignified  pro 
ceeding;  but  as  he  was  the  brother  of  the  distinguished 
arctic  explorer,  his  new  comrades  concluded  to  look 
upon  his  daily  wash  as  a  purely  individual  peculiarity, 
which  in  a  stranger  should  be  leniently  considered. 

All  of  which  reminds  me  of  another  vanity,  this  time 
my  own.  I  was  the  happy  possessor  of  a  gray  dressing 
gown,  lined  and  trimmed  with  scarlet  flannel,  and  which 
I  had  made  for  me  in  Vienna  in  1852.  When  I  was 
stationed  at  Cairo  I  had  it  expressed  to  me,  and  during 


100  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  time  I  was  living  at  Safford's  Bank,  our  head 
quarters,  General  Grant  saw  the  gorgeous  garment  and 
determined  to  have  one  like  it.  So  it  was  borrowed  by 
Mrs.  Grant,  taken  to  Chicago  and  served  as  a  model  for 
a  similar  gown  for  the  General. 

In  the  early  part  of  December  Dr.  Simons  returned 
to  Cairo,  and  resumed  his  duties  as  Medical  Director  of 
the  District.  I  was  not,  however,  sent  away,  but  was  kept 
on  duty  in  the  office  and  in  fact  I  was  treated  by  him 
with  the  greatest  consideration  and  kindness.  I  was 
very  glad  indeed,  to  be  left  quietly  in  the  office,  for  my 
boils  were  growing  worse,  and  some  days  I  could  scarcely 
move.  During  the  days  preceding  Christmas,  I  received 
some  boxes  from  home,  full  of  nice  comfortable  things, 
and  the  letter  which  came  to  me  at  that  time,  you  may 
be  sure,  made  me  feel  homesick.  On  Christmas  night,  I 
left  for  St.  Louis  as  my  teeth  were  troubling  me,  and 
greatly  in  need  of  the  services  of  a  dentist.  I  was  for 
tunate  in  finding  a  good  one,  and  in  a  day  or  two  the 
necessary  repairs  were  made. 

On  the  3<Dth  of  December  I  returned  to  Cairo,  reach 
ing  there  in  the  night,  and  strange  to  say,  feeling  also  as 
if  the  dirty  old  town  was  sort  of  home  to  me.  New 
Year's  Eve  I  spent  at  General  Grant's  at  a  sort  of  small 
party,  after  which  I  wrote  home  my  New  Year's  letters. 
I  remember  it  all  so  well,  and  chiefly  I  remember  the 
famous  batch  of  home  letters  which  had  accumulated 
at  Cairo  during  my  absence,  and  the  wondrous  pleasures 
I  had  in  going  through  them,  one  by  one. 

On  New  Year's  evening,  January  i,  1862,  which  fell 
on  a  Wednesday,  I  gave  a  little  New  Year's  dinner  of 
my  own.  I  was  not  at  that  time,  physically  speaking,  in 
very  good  shape,  for  in  my  New  Year's  letter  to  my 
mother,  I  tell  her  that  there  are  certain  positions  which 


Cape  Girardeau,  Mo. — Cairo,  III.  101 

I  cannot  well  occupy  in  consequence  of  my  aforemen 
tioned  boils,  and  that  these  positions;  \tfefre  ^'sittirjg, 
standing,  lying  down,  walking,  riding  and  running." 
So  you  see  at  once  how  disconsolate  I  must  have  been. 
Nevertheless  I  determined  to  have  my  New  Year's  din 
ner  in  the  little  frame  shanty  in  which  I  then  had  my 
quarters,  the  conspicuous  feature  of  which  was  an  iron 
stove,  in  which  I  burned  large  quantities  of  wood.  My 
guests  of  the  day  were  Medical  Director  James  Simons, 
Dr.  Aigner,  a  very  clever  German,  who  represented  the 
Sanitary  Commission,  and  Dr.  John  Kane,  who  was 
then  one  of  the  resident  assistant  surgeons  at  Burke' s 
post  hospital.  Our  dinner,  a  very  good  one,  and  rich  in 
game,  was  washed  down  by  some  excellent  wine,  chiefly 
that  sent  by  Mr.  John  C.  Van  Renselaer  of  Newport, 
R.  I.,  for  the  Christmas  dinner  which  I  did  not  eat  in 
Cairo.  I  remember  especially  some  burgundy,  and  some 
famous  old  "Constitution  madeira,"  which  its  donor 
said  had  made  the  voyage  round  the  world  in  that  old 
warship;  at  all  events  it  was  sound  wine,  and  served  its 
purpose,  and  elicited  profound  wine  stories  from  two  at 
least  of  the  diners  around  my  modest  table.  So  it  all 
went  off  merrily,  and  I  remember  that  good  dinner  more 
clearly  than  many  a  far  better  one  since. 

In  the  early  part  of  January,  1862,  rumors  began  to 
creep  around  the  staff  of  an  expedition  somewhere,  but 
the  information  was  most  vague.  Soon,  however,  these 
took  shape  and  on  the  Qth,  I  received  an  order  from 
General  Grant  to  accompany  him  on  an  expedition. 

My  guess  as  to  the  object  of  this  expedition  was  cor 
rectly  stated  in  my  letter  to  my  Mother,  dated  on  the 
steamer  "Esmeralda,"  at  an  encampment  on  the  Ken 
tucky  shore,  six  miles  from  Cairo,  as  follows : 

"I  imagine  the  object  of  the  expedition  is  merely  to 


102  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

prevent  the  enemy  at  Columbus  (Ky.)  from  ordering 
trbc-ps  away  froiiTCplnmbus  to  Bowling  Green  (Ky.). 
I  think  Buell  is  about  to  make  an  attack,  and  that  we 
are  put  forward  on  the  principle  of  'Brag  to  support 
him/  '  And  in  the  same  letter  I  add :  "I  just  missed  be 
ing  Chief  Surgeon  to  this  expedition.  Dr.  Simons  was 
sick,  but  he  is  well  enough  to  come  to-morrow,  so  I  go 
with  McClernand  instead  of  Grant.  Grant  wanted  me 
and  paid  me  the  compliment  of  ordering  me  peremp 
torily  to  come  with  him,  but  General  McClernand 
claimed  me,  so  I  had  of  course  to  go.  A  little  piece  of 
vanity  all  this,  but  you  need  not  tell." 

So  as  will  be  seen,  I  went  with  Gen.  McClernand,  who 
was  in  direct  command  of  the  expedition,  about  5,000  or 
6,000  men.  Gen.  Grant  accompanied,  having  his  own 
body  guard.  Dr.  John  K.  Kane  volunteered,  and  asked 
permission  of  General  Grant  to  go  with  him.  The 
General  was  delighted,  "I  accept  you,  my  boy,"  he  said, 
and  made  him  surgeon  of  his  body  guard.  In  this  posi 
tion  Kane  behaved  admirably,  and  I  may  say  here  that 
he  stuck  very  close  to  the  General  in  a  very  hard,  and 
at  that  time,  much  talked  of  reconnoisance  which  the 
General  made  around  Columbus.  The  ride  was  from 
40  to  50  miles,  the  day  dreadful  with  snow  and  sleet, 
and  cold.  The  General  returned  to  his  camp  late  at 
night  with  only  Rawlins,  Kane  and  an  orderly  or  so. 
The  rest  of  his  escort  was  left  on  the  way  and  struggled 
in  as  best  they  could  afterwards.  It  was,  I  fancy,  the 
recollection  of  this  ride  and  its  attendant  weather,  which 
lingered  in  his  memory  so  long,  and  which  prompted  his 
description  of  "splashing  through  the  mud,  snow  and 
rain,"  as  given  at  page  286  of  the  first  volume  of  his 
personal  memoirs.  The  General  never  forgot  either  the 
ride  or  Kane.  Only  two  or  three  years  before  his  death, 


Cape  Girardeau,,  Mo. — Cairo,  III.          103 

he  recalled  the  circumstance  to  me,  and  asked,  "How  is 
little  Kane?" 

I  ought  to  say  something  right  here  of  General  Mc- 
Clernand,  for  I  was  now  serving  on  his  staff.  He  was 
a  fine,  or  rather  let  me  say  a  good,  specimen  of  an  active, 
bustling  western  politician,  and  one  possessed  of  a  cer 
tain  amount  of  influence.  Doubtless  he  was  a  clever 
lawyer  and  shrewd  politician,  but  he  aspired  to  be  some 
thing  else, — a  general.  I  do  not  think  that  he  ever 
exactly  comprehended  what  a  real  general  was,  or  should 
be;  nor  do  I  believe  he  ever  eliminated  the  idea  of  poli 
tician  in  his  estimate  of  the  soldier.  The  latter  was  by 
his  standard  not  only  a  fighting,  but  also,  a  talkative 
personage.  Placed  by  circumstances  near  Grant,  he  was 
even  at  this  early  day  jealous  of  him;  at  least,  it  seemed 
so  to  me  then.  He  was,  however,  kind  to  me,  and  bore 
me  no  grudge,  as  many  a  man  would  have  done,  under 
the  following  circumstances. 

Shortly  before  this  I  had  been  stationed  in  charge  of 
the  general  hospitals  of  the  District  of  Cairo;  General 
Grant  was  away  from  Cairo  (at  St.  Louis  I  think),  and 
General  McClernand  commanded  in  his  absence.  One 
of  the  latter's  orders  was  to  this  effect :  "That  all  able- 
bodied  men  in  the  hospitals  in  the  District  should  be 
returned  to  their  command,  irrespective  of  the  hospital 
duties  they  were  performing,  or  the  sources  of  their  de 
tail."  The  execution  of  this  order,  the  superintendence 
of  serving  it  and  carrying  it  out,  he  entrusted  to  a  chap 
lain.  By  the  regulations  of  the  army,  a  chaplain's 
functions  were  limited  to  his  own  department,  and  he 
was  incapable  of  executing  command.  The  order  was 
clearly  illegal,  but  apart  from  this,  its  execution  would 
have  instantly  paralyzed  the  whole  hospital  department 
of  the  entire  district  of  Cairo,  at  a  time  too,  when  its 


104  Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

efficiency  was  most  called  for.  I  accordingly  instructed 
my  surgeon  to  disobey  it,  and  by  my  own  endorsement 
disputed  its  validity.  General  Grant  on  his  return  sent 
for  me,  showed  me  my  rebellious  order,  and  added, 
"Doctor,  this  is  a  very  serious  business."  My  answer 
to  him  was,  "General,  when  you  entrusted  to  me,  as 
your  Medical  Director  the  care  of  the  invalid  of  your 
command,  you  said  to  me,  'Doctor,  take  care  of  my  sick 
and  wounded  to  the  best  of  your  ability,  don't  bother 
over  regulations.'  Now,  General,"  I  added,  "I  have  done 
this  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  If  I  have  done  right,  you 
will  support  me;  if  I  have  done  wrong,  you  know  what 
to  do  with  me."  The  general  looked  at  me  a  moment, 
took  the  paper,  and  put  on  it  the  endorsement  which  lives 
in  my  memory:  "The  object  of  having  a  Medical  Direc 
tor  is  that  he  shall  be  supreme  in  his  own  Department. 
The  decision  of  Surgeon  Brinton  is  sustained."  I  have 
always  regarded  this  action  of  General  Grant,  the  posi 
tion  of  an  old  soldier,  toward  me,  who  was  trying, 
perhaps  ignorantly,  to  do  my  duty  under  novel  and 
difficult  surroundings,  as  very  noble.  I  think  that  my 
veneration  for  his  character,  and  my  strong  personal 
affection  for  him,  dated  from  that  interview.  I  doubt 
if  another  officer  of  his  rank  in  the  army  would  have  so 
supported  a  medical  officer  under  like  circumstances. 

At  the  time  General  McClernand  was  slightly  annoyed, 
but  he  behaved  well  to  me,  especially  on  this  expedition. 
He  requested  that  I  should  go  on  his  staff,  and  General 
Grant  verbally  instructed  me  to  do  so,  and  I  was  taken 
very  good  care  of.  I  remember  very  well  that  in  the 
afternoon,  the  boat,  the  Esmeralda,  tied  up  at  the  shore, 
and  General  McClernand  and  his  staff  landed.  I  was  in 
bad  plight  with  my  boils,  and  was  very  grateful  to  my 
commander,  when  he  came  to  me,  and  said:  "Doctor, 


Cape  Girardeau,  Mo. — Cairo,  III.          105 

you  are  so  ill  at  ease,  stay  on  board  till  morning,  and 
land  at  your  leisure."  I  thanked  him,  and  went  to  my 
stateroom.  He  landed,  but  came  back  to  the  gangplank, 
and  called  the  captain  of  the  boat  to  him,  when  to  my 
intense  surprise,  I  heard  him  say,  "Captain,  take  good 
care  of  my  doctor,  for  he  is  a  gentleman,"  I  think  he 
added,  "A  real  gentleman."  I  was  very  much  touched 
by  his  consideration,  for  it  was  unexpected.  I  never  for 
got  it,  and  in  one  way  or  another,  I  did  him  good  turns 
afterward,  which  he  never  knew  of. 

In  the  morning,  I  landed  and  mounted.  I  must  tell 
you  about  this  mounting,  if  I  can  supply  such  a  term  to 
the  arrangement  of  my  saddlery.  I  had  one  stirrup,  the 
left  one,  very  long,  so  that  I  could  stand  in  it  as  it  were 
with  my  right  thigh  supported  at  an  angle  over  the 
saddle.  The  right  stirrup  was  very  short,  so  that  I 
could,  when  resting  my  foot  in  it,  be  uplifted  over  the 
saddle.  This  latter  was  well  padded  with  a  blue  blanket, 
— and  so  I  rode  in  the  saddle,  but  not  of  it,  or  touching 
it.  I  could  not  have  looked  like  a  warrior  on  a  career 
of  invasion;  I  know  I  did  not  feel  like  one.  However, 
I  had  not  at  this  time  far  to  ride,  only  a  mile  or  so  up 
a  wood  road  to  our  "Camp  Jefferson/'  McClernand's 
headquarters  were  at  a  farmhouse,  with  a  big  chimney 
place  and  bright  fire  blazing  in  the  kitchen.  On  the 
nth  of  January,  three  Confederate  gunboats  came  up 
the  Mississippi;  our  gunboats  saw  them,  and  started 
down  to  give  battle.  A  good  deal  of  heavy  firing  en 
sued,  but  a  fog  suddenly  sprang  up,  the  firing  ceased 
abruptly,  and  we  all  felt  some  anxiety  as  to  the  result. 
It  was  determined  to  send  one  of  our  transport  steamers 
down  the  river  to  learn  the  result.  I  begged  permission 
to  go  on  her,  and  we  started.  Our  crew  consisted  of 
the  engineer,  fireman,  a  hand  or  two,  an  engineer  officer 


106  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

to  observe,  and  myself.  We  steamed  steadily  along, 
watching  the  Kentucky  shore,  for  fear  of  field  batteries ; 
at  one  time,  we  made  out  hostile  tents,  so  we  turned  the 
boat  around,  and  dropped  slowly  downward  stern  fore 
most,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  a  quick  start  homewards,  in 
case  of  danger.  As  we  neared  the  suspicious  canvas,  the 
tent  walls  vanished,  and  we  found  only  some  linen  of 
an  old  woman's  wash,  hung  out  to  dry  on  the  bushes. 
Soon  the  fog  cleared  away,  and  we  saw  our  own  and 
the  enemy's  boats  a  little  below  us,  and  some  distance 
apart.  Firing  began  at  once,  and  in  a  moment  a  shell 
from  one  of  our  ship's  guns  burst  directly  at  one  of 
the  enemy's  ports ;  the  rebel  boat  immediately  turned  and 
steamed  away  with  her  consorts.  We,  that  is,  the  en 
gineer  and  myself,  ran  to  our  little  fleet  and  boarded  the 
flag  ship.  We  were  very  kindly  received  (by,  I  think, 
Commodore  Porter)  and  had  a  good  luncheon.  The 
ship  or  gunboat  was  one  of  the  Mississippi  ironclad 
fleet,  designed  by  Captain  Eads,  and  known  as  "Tur 
tles,"  broad-bottomed  boats,  suitable  for  shallow  waters, 
with  sloping  sides,  or  rather  tops,  plated  with  two  inch 
iron,  on  which  projectiles  would  glance.  I  was  greatly 
interested  by  all  that  I  saw  here,  for  everything  was 
in  fighting  trim,  ship  and  men,  and  the  smell  of  the 
powder  was  over  all. 

Having  been  furnished  with  the  account  of  the  naval 
skirmish,  the  engineer  and  I  returned  to  our  transport 
and  went  back  to  headquarters  with  our  budget  of  news. 
I  ought  to  add  that  the  boats  of  the  enemy  had  been  in 
dustriously  planting  torpedoes  in  the  river  channel  until 
stopped  at  their  innocent  work  by  our  fleet,  which  pulled 
up  these  dangerous  machines. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ST.   LOUIS 

On  the  I3th  of  January,  1862,  I  received  an  order 
from  General  Grant,  informing  me  that  I  had  been  de 
tailed  as  a  member  of  the  board  of  their  medical  officers 
to  convene  at  St.  Louis,  January  i6th,  for  the  examina 
tion  of  officers,  and  directing  me  to  proceed  at  once  to 
that  city.  The  object  of  this  board,  of  which  I  was 
president  by  seniority,  was  the  examination  of  regimental 
surgeons  and  assistant  surgeons  and  contract  physicians, 
who  had  appeared  to  be  deficient  in  medical  qualifica 
tions  ;  and  in  other  words,  to  find  out  the  medical  "black 
sheep"  of  the  Department  of  Missouri,  and  very  black 
some  of  them  were. 

Accordingly,  I  left  the  expedition,  and  I  must  confess, 
with  regret,  as  I  had  by  this  time  come  to  like  the  men 
with  whom  I  was  serving,  especially  General  Grant,  and 
had  formed  a  conviction,  I  can  scarcely  say  how  arrived 
at,  that  he  was  the  man  destined  to  close  the  war.  I  was 
still  physically  most  uncomfortable  from  my  many  boils, 
and  horseback  exercise  was  really  torture.  In  one  sense, 
therefore,  I  was  relieved  at  being  sent  to  St.  Louis, 
though  looking  forward  with  pleasure  to  a  speedy  re 
turn  as  soon  as  I  should  be  in  better  health.  Passing 
through  Cairo  on  the  I4th,  I  arrived  at  St.  Louis  on  the 
same  night,  or  rather  early  in  the  morning  of  the  I5th, 
and  took  up  my  headquarters  at  the  Planters'  House, 

107 


108  Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  best  hotel  in  the  city,  and  crowded  with  officers  and 
persons  on  military  business. 

In  a  letter  to  Dr.  DaCosta  of  about  this  date,  I  wrote 
as  follows  about  George  McClellan,  my  cousin:  "If  he, 
(General  McClellan)  does  not  move,  he  will  topple  over. 
If  Grant  takes  Columbus,  or  Bowling  Green,  George  may 
find  a  rival.  The  people  here  are  losing  confidence  in 
him.  What  does  he  mean  ?  Is  the  fighting  after  all  to  be 
done  here  in  the  west?" 

In  this  letter,  too,  I  speak  of  a  friend,  whose  acquaint 
ance  I  here  made, — Captain  I.  P.  Hawkins,  Commissary 
of  Subsistence,  U.  S.  A.  He  was  a  very  honest  and  good 
hearted  fellow,  and  a  good  friend  to  me  who  gave  me  a 
great  deal  of  sound  advice,  which  I  tried  to  follow,  and 
which  I  am  sure  was  to  my  advantage  in  the  service. 
One  of  his  favorite  teachings  was,  "Always  be  satisfied 
with  your  present  detail  of  duty;  do  not  pull  wires,  or 
try  for  something  else,  or  seek  to  supplant  any  other 
officer;  be  content  with  what  you  have;  do  your  duty 
as  well  as  you  can,  and  it  will  most  probably  turn  out 
well.  Services  which  are  sought  for,  especially  unfairly 
sought  for  almost  always  bring  trouble  and  regret  after 
them."  All  this  was  very  good  advice  for  me. 

My  time  in  St.  Louis  passed  pleasantly.  The  duty 
was  not  hard,  and  the  other  members  of  the  board  were 
very  congenial.  I  had  a  good  deal  of  time  to  myself; 
office,  or  rather,  board  hours,  were  only  in  the  morning, 
so  I  made  friends  and  paid  visits.  Among  the  military 
men  I  knew  at  the  time  in  St.  Louis  were  Col.  Woods, 
Col.  Totten,  Col.  Thorn,  of  the  Topographical  Engineers, 
Generals  Sturgis,  Schofield,  Sweeny,  and  Van  Renselaer, 
and  many  others.  The  presence  of  the  headquarters 
kept  the  city  gay.  The  General  in  command  of  this 
Department,  or  rather  I  think  of  the  entire  west,  was 


St.  Louis  109 

General  Halleck.  I  afterwards  became  a  member  of  his 
staff. 

The  southern  or  secession  feeling  in  St.  Louis  was 
strong  and  bitter.  As  I  have  already  written,  I  had  a 
good  many  friends,  and  soon  found  myself  in  St.  Louis 
society,  largely  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  James  E. 
Yeatman,*  who  was  then  the  President  of  the  Western 
Sanitary  Commission,  a  very  powerful  organization. 
Mr.  Yeatman  was  perhaps  the  most  prominent  Union 
citizen  in  St.  Louis,  and  I  believe  was  connected  in  some 
way  with  John  Bell  of  Tennessee,  a  former  defeated 
candidate  for  the  Vice-Presidency  of  the  U.  S.  Some 
of  my  friends  in  the  army  had  spoken  to  Mr.  Yeatman 
about  me,  and  when  I  arrived  in  St.  Louis  as  President 
of  the  Board  of  Examination,  Mr.  Yeatman  called 
on  me.  He  asked  me  if  I  was  married,  and  when  I  said 
I  was  not,  he  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  see  something 
of  St.  Louis  society.  I  replied  affirmatively,  and  very 
shortly  (I  mean  an  hour  or  so)  I  received  a  card  to  a 
Philharmonic  Society,  with  an  invitation  to  call  at  Mr. 
Yeatman' s  house,  and  accompany  some  of  the  young 
ladies  of  his  family  to  the  Concert  Hall.  This,  I  gladly 
did.  I  spent  a  pleasant  evening,  and  the  next  day  invita 
tion  after  invitation  reached  me,  and  I  was  thus  soon 
launched  among  a  pleasant  set  of  social  acquaintances. 
I  must  also  say  here  that  although  many  of  the  men  I 
met  with  in  this  society  were,  or  pretended  to  be,  loyal, 
the  women  were  undoubtedly  southern  sympathizers.  I 
found  it  best  in  public  entertainment  to  wear  my  uniform 
as  a  sort  of  protection  and  thus  show  my  colors. 

In  a  letter  of  January  26th,  1862,  when  writing  home, 

*This  gentleman  was  the  original  of  the  character  of  Mr.  Brins- 
made  in  Mr.  Churchill's  novel,  "The  Crisis."  E.  T.  S. 


110  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

I  find  I  have  thus  spoken  of  the  "secesh  settlement  of 
St.  Louis": 

"But  General  Halleck  is  fixing  all  that  now.  It  is 
becoming  a  dangerous  game  to  be  too  'sassy.'  The 
Missouri  refugees  are  being  quartered  in  the  houses  of 
prominent  secessionists.  'I  will  tell  you  when  I  want 
them  carpets  took  up,'  said  one  of  these  half  savage 
union  refugee  women  to  one  of  the  secession  ladies  of 
St.  Louis,  her  unwilling  hostess,  and  who  was  on  the 
point  of  removing  her  parlor  furniture  with  a  view  to 
rendering  the  house  as  little  comfortable  as  possible. 
The  carpets  were  not  'took  up,'  as  it  was  understood 
that  General  Halleck  might  possibly  order  them  down 
again,  and  he  was  a  prompt  man,  using  little  ceremony." 

This  was  a  time  when  everybody  was  having  new  ex 
periences  and  learning  new  things.  Even  I  was  gaining 
my  experiences,  as  appears  by  a  plaintive  appeal  home: 
"Can  you  tell  me  any  secret  by  which  short  buttons  can 
be  permanently  retained  on  their  respective  sites?  I 
haven't  a  button  to  my  name." 

About  this  time  General  Grant  came  up  to  St.  Louis 
to  consult  with  Halleck.  I  saw  something  of  Grant  then. 
He  treated  me  kindly,  and  as  an  old  friend.  One  evening 
I  was  seated  at  rather  a  low  theatre,  smoking  and  listen 
ing  to  the  music  and  the  wretched  jabber  on  the  stage, 
when  I  felt  a  hand  placed  on  each  shoulder,  and  looking 
up,  I  faced  the  General,  puffing  away  at  his  cigar.  "Oh 
Doctor,  Doctor,"  he  said,  "if  you  only  knew  how  it 
grieves  me  to  find  you  in  such  a  low  place,  and  in  such 
company,"  and  he  sat  down,  chuckling  greatly.  Before 
he  returned  to  Cairo,  which  he  did  on  the  27th  of  Jan 
uary,  he  told  me  that  he  intended  to  have  me  back  at 
Cairo  with  him  before  long. 


St.  Louis  111 

In  St.  Louis,  I  made  the  most  of  my  time,  doing  my 
board  work  and  going  much  into  society,  and  then  too,  I 
repaired  my  wardrobe  and  bought  new  linen.  I  had  a 
present,  by  the  way,  just  at  this  time  of  a  fine  green  silk 
scarf.  It  was  given  me  by  a  little  French  Jewess,  a 
Parisienne,  whose  husband  was,  if  I  remember  rightly, 
post  baker  at  Cairo,  and  whom  I  attended  when  sick. 
I  charged  him  nothing,  but  she  used  to  make  me  a  nice 
French  omelette  at  every  visit,  and  give  me  a  glass  of 
delicious  French  light  wine.  I  am  afraid  that  the  baker's 
bread  was  short  of  weight;  he  made  a  great  deal  too 
much  money,  and  got  into  evil  repute.  I  did  what  I 
could  for  them  in  one  way  or  another,  and  so  she  gave 
me  this  green  medical  sash.  I  wanted  it  then,  for  the 
one  I  had  was  poor  and  mean  and  sashes  were  expensive. 
M.  and  Mme.  Lazare  prospered  during  the  war,  and  long 
after  the  peace  she  became  a  very  fine  lady  at  Narra- 
gansett  and  her  daughter  was  a  piquante  belle,  and  they 
forgot  to  remember  the  flour  and  the  bakery. 

As  I  did  not  always  wear  uniform,  I  had  for  St.  Louis 
use,  civilian's  suits.  I  can  never  forget  on  one  occasion 
going  to  a  large  ready-made  clothing  establishment  in 
that  city  to  buy  a  pair  of  citizen's  trousers,  urgently 
needed.  They  had  none  to  fit  me.  "None?"  said  I, 
"None?"  and  I  turned  to  go  despondently  through  the 
street  door.  "Stop  a  minute,  stop,  my  dear  sir,"  said 
the  master  salesman.  "I  have  a  thought,"  and  he  went 
to  the  open  hatchway,  leading  to  the  upper  stories,  and 
putting  his  hand  to  his  mouth  trumpet  fashion,  he 
shouted  "Isaac,  I-sa-aa-c,  send  down  at  once  a  pair  of 
the  'short-fats !' ' 

On  the  fifth  of  February,  I  wrote  to  my  Mother  that 
I  would  probably  start  for  Cairo  soon;  on  the  6th.  I 
add  "That  I  am  leaving  in  a  great  hurry  this  afternoon 


112  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

for  Cairo  at  my  own  request."  On  the  7th  I  sent  her  a 
line  to  say  that  I  had  just  arrived  at  Cairo  and  that  Fort 
Henry  on  the  Tennessee  River  had  been  captured,  and 
that  I  would  join  General  Grant  at  once.  I  remember 
distinctly  the  arrival  of  the  gunboat,  which  one  I  have 
forgotten,  confirming  the  news  of  the  capture  of  Fort 
Henry.  She  arrived  at  Cairo  on  the  7th,  flying  the  rebel 
or  I  suppose  I  ought  now  to  say,  the  Confederate  flag, 
upside  down,  I  think,  and  below  the  flag  of  the  United 
States.  Her  arrival  created  a  great  excitement  at  Cairo, 
which  spread  rapidly  over  the  whole  country  as  fast  as 
the  telegraph  could  convey  the  news. 


CHAPTER    IX 

FORT   HENRY — FORT  DONELSON 

I  immediately  started  for  Fort  Henry  to  report  to 
General  Grant,  in  obedience  to  orders.  I  found  him  with 
his  staff  on  board  one  of  the  steamers.  I  believe  it  was 
the  "Tigress."  I  was  now  the  medical  director  of  the 
forces  in  the  field,  Dr.  Simons,  the  medical  director  of 
the  district,  being  sick  at  Cairo.  I  had  at  this  time  plenty 
to  do  and  was  busy  all  the  time  visiting  the  regimental 
hospitals  (tent  hospitals,  of  course,)  of  the  forces  which 
were  hurrying  up  from  every  direction,  and  which  were 
encamped  around  the  captured  fort  on  the  higher  and 
partially  dry  ground. 

And  here  I  ought  to  say  something  about  Fort  Henry, 
the  first  fort  of  any  note  which  had  been  captured  from 
the  enemy.  It  was  an  earthen-work  of  some  size,  thrown 
up  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Tennessee  River,  intended 
(in  conjunction  with  another  work,  Fort  Heiman  on  the 
left  bank)  to  command  the  Tennessee  River  entirely  and 
to  prevent  the  passage  of  our  gunboats  along  this  river, 
and  thus  into  Alabama,  threatening  Mississippi.  Both  of 
these  forts  when  erected  were  some  thirty-five  or  forty 
feet  above  the  bed  of  the  river  and  completely  commanded 
it.  Heavy  rains,  however,  occurred  and  the  river  was 
greatly  swollen;  it  had  risen  and  was  still  rising  rapidly, 
and  the  fort  was  now  upon  a  level  almost  with  the  river ; 
in  fact  the  water  had  surrounded  it,  and  so  high  was  the 
stream  that  our  gunboats  fought  at  a  great  advantage, 

"3 


114  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

and  were  indeed  almost  able  to  throw  a  plunging  fire 
into  the  work.  Provided,  as  it  was,  with  heavy  guns 
(seized  at  our  navy  yard  at  the  beginning  of  the  war) 
the  fort  nevertheless  offered  but  a  feeble  resistance  to  the 
effective  fire  of  our  gunboats.  The  enemy's  guns  were 
soon  dismounted,  the  fort  became  untenable,  and  during 
the  night  of  the  6th  was  abandoned  by  its  garrison. 
When  I  visited  it,  shortly  after  reporting  to  the  General, 
it  was  a  dreadful  sight.  Great  heavy  columbiads*  were 
overthrown,  some  with  their  muzzles  pointing  in  the  air, 
their  carriages  were  broken  and  stained  with  blood. 
Here  and  there  too,  were  masses  of  human  flesh  and 
hair  adhering  to  the  broken  timbers.  The  interior  of 
the  fort  was  a  mass  of  mud,  the  back  water  from  the 
stream  having  flowed  in  from  the  rear. 

It  had  been  intended  that  the  capture  of  Fort  Henry, 
Tennessee,  should  be  attempted  by  a  co-operative  effort 
of  the  naval  and  military  forces  of  the  Government, 
and  for  that  purpose  a  considerable  force,  several  thou 
sand  in  fact,  had  been  landed  on  the  right  -bank  of  the 
river,  with  instructions  to  march  up  and  occupy  positions 
behind  Fort  Henry  and  between  it  and  Fort  Donelson, 
investing  Fort  Henry  by  land,  while  the  fleet  should 
operate  from  the  river.  The  march  of  the  troops  had, 
however,  been  retarded  by  the  inundation  of  the  wooded 
banks  of  the  river,  and  they  did  not  reach  their  destina 
tion  until  after  the  fort  had  surrendered  to  the  naval 
forces. 

General  Grant  and  his  staff,  of  which  I  was  a  mem 
ber,  remained  at  Fort  Henry  until  about  the  I2th  of 

*A  columbiad  was  an  enormously  heavy  iron  muzzle  loading  can 
non,  throwing  round  shells  of  eight,  ten  or  eleven  inches  in  diameter. 
They  were  constructed  for  naval  use  and  for  sea  coast  defence  and 
were  smooth  bored  and  not  rifled.  E.  T.  S. 


Fort  Henry — Fort  Donelson  115 

February.  Our  quarters  were  on  the  steamer  "Tigress." 
About  the  I2th  the  General  and  his  staff  started  for  Fort 
Donelson,  some  eight  or  nine  miles  distant  from  Fort 
Henry.  Fort  Donelson,  afterwards  so  well  known,  was 
a  strong  earth- work  on  the  slope  of  a  hill,  near  the  little 
town  of  Dover.  It  commanded  the  Cumberland  River 
and  the  approach  to  Nashville.  It  was  a  strong  fort, 
with  heavy  guns  mounted  high  up  on  the  hill,  and  a  bat 
tery  of  very  heavy  guns  low  down  almost  on  the  level  of 
the  river,  at  all  events,  on  its  level,  in  the  then  swollen 
condition  of  the  stream.  Two  roads  led  from  Fort 
Henry  to  Fort  Donelson;  the  army  moved  along  both, 
the  cavalry  watching  the  space  between,  so  as  not  to 
allow  any  of  the  enemy  to  escape  us.  The  Staff  moved 
by  the  left-hand  or  low  road.  I  rode  near  the  General 
on  my  black  horse,  a  strong  powerful  beast,  which  I  had 
bought  at  Cairo.  He  was  possessed  of  a  fast  walk,  and 
moreover  he  would  push  in  front  of  the  other  horses 
on  the  Staff.  I  could  hardly  keep  him  back ;  he  particu 
larly  and  persistently  would  pass  the  General  who  rode 
his  old  favorite  stallion  "Jack."  Finally,  he  very  good- 
naturedly  said  to  me,  "Doctor,  I  believe  I  command  this 
army,  and  I  think  I'll  go  first." 

When  we  reached  Fort  Donelson,  our  troops  were 
extended  and  kept  well  in  line,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  any 
outburst  of  the  enemy.  Wandering  off  from  the  Staff 
to  give  some  professional  directions,  I  somehow  or  other 
got  in  front  of  this  line,  and  it  seemed  to  afford  the 
men  great  pleasure  to  close  up  so  as  to  keep  me  from 
getting  through.  I,  and  a  solitary  scared  dog,  were  in 
front.  After  a  while,  when  the  men  had  had  their  joke 
at  my  expense,  I  passed  through. 

We  met  with  no  opposition  on  this  march  and  finally 
arrived  near  Fort  Donelson.  Our  line  of  investment 


116  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

was  soon  formed.  We  marched  in  battle  order,  ready 
for  action.  The  actual  luggage  of  the  staff  was  repre 
sented  by  a  few  collars,  a  comb  and  brush  and  such  toilet 
articles,  contained  in  a  small  satchel  belonging  to  me. 
General  Grant  had  only  a  tooth  brush  in  his  waistcoat 
pocket,  and  I  supplied  him  with  a  clean  white  collar. 
Of  whiskey  or  liquor,  of  which  so  much  has  been  said, 
there  was  not  one  drop  in  the  possession  of  any  member 
of  the  staff,  except  that  in  my  pocket,  an  eight-ounce 
flask,  which  I  was  especially  requested  by  the  General 
to  keep  only  for  medical  purposes,  and  I  was  further  in 
structed  by  him  not  to  furnish  a  drink  under  any  pretext 
to  any  member  of  the  Staff,  except  when  necessary  in 
my  professional  judgment.  But  of  this,  I  shall  speak 
again. 

We  occupied  the  headquarters  house  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  I2th  of  February  and  here  we  remained  until  after 
the  capture  of  Fort  Donelson,  and  of  the  little  town  of 
Dover,  which  was  included  within  the  enemy's  lines  of 
defence.  The  kitchen  had  in  it  a  double  feather-bed  and 
this  was  occupied  by  the  General, — some  small  rooms  in 
the  other  parts  of  the  house  were  crowded  by  other 
members  of  the  staff.  I  think  for  one  night  the  General 
slept  somewhere  else  than  the  kitchen,  but  came  down 
because  of  the  bed  and  the  warmer  temperature.  The 
big  open  fireplace  was  attractive.  On  the  I3th,  I  was 
busy  fixing  my  hospitals  and  doing  the  best  I  could.  The 
whole  of  this  day  was  employed  in  establishing  the  posi 
tions  of  our  forces,  and  in  strengthening  their  lines.  We 
threw  up  no  breastworks,  but  depended  upon  the  natural 
strength  of  the  ground,  and  its  "lay"  for  our  protection, 
should  the  enemy  attempt  any  sortie.  But  the  idea  of  a 
sortie  never  entered  General  Grant's  head,  or  if  it  did, 
it  found  no  lodgment  there.  His  ideas  were  fixed,  that 


Fort  Henry — Fort  Donelson  117 

the  enemy  would  stay  inside  their  works  and  not  readily 
venture  out. 

One  of  my  hospitals,  that  nearest  to  the  Southern  lines, 
was  in  a  ravine,  within  sight  of  the  hostile  troops.  It 
happened  that  some  heavy  skirmishing  took  place  on  the 
1 3th,  chiefly  along  General  McClernand's  front,  our  right. 
Indeed  it  was  more  than  skirmishing;  for  a  time  in  fact 
a  very  lively  fight.  During  this,  a  good  many  wounded 
found  their  way  to  this  particular  hospital,  and  not  only 
wounded,  but  many,  a  great  many  faint-hearted  ones, 
who  disgracefully  sought  the  hospital  precinct  as  a  shel 
ter.  This  congregation  hourly  increased,  and  I  began 
after  a  time  to  feel  anxious,  lest  the  enemy,  noticing  so 
many  stragglers,  might  sweep  down,  and  make  capture 
of  both  hurt  and  unhurt.  The  hospital  had  only  its  sacred 
character  to  defend  it,  and  this  was  being  debased  by 
the  gathering  crowd.  Then  too,  most  of  our  hospital 
stores,  I  mean  the  reserve  supplies,  were  here,  and  I  did 
not  wish  them  to  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands.  So  I 
accordingly  went  to  General  Grant  and  explained  to  him 
the  exposed  position  of  the  hospital.  His  answer  was, 
"Yes,  Doctor,  I  see,  but  they  will  not  come  and  capture 
you."  And  back  I  went  to  the  hospital.  Yet  things  went 
from  bad  to  worse,  the  stragglers  increased  in  numbers. 
The  hospital  supplies  became  more  and  more  important, 
in  view  of  a  probable  approaching  battle,  and  my  anxiety 
was  greater  every  minute.  The  loss  of  this  depot  and 
its  supplies  would  have  been  almost  paralyzing  to  the 
Medical  Department.  Again  I  saw  the  General.  Again 
I  told  him  my  fears,  and  again  heard  his  answer,  as 
before :  "They  will  not  come." 

As  the  peril  increased  still  more,  I  sought  him  a  third 
time,  and  after  saying  all  I  could,  I  asked  him  "Am  I 
exaggerating  the  risk,  or  the  consequences  of  the  loss  of 


118  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  medical  stores  of  your  army,  removed  as  we  now 
are  from  fresh  sources  of  supply?"  The  General  heard 
me  as  he  always  did,  most  patiently,  and  replied,  "No 
Doctor,  you  are  right,  I  know  the  exposure  as  well  as 
you,  and  fully  realize  what  a  disaster  would  be  the  loss 
of  our  medical  supplies;  but  yet  Doctor,  it  will  not  hap 
pen;  the  enemy  might  capture  you  all  if  they  chose;  they 
could  do  it  with  a  small  force  of  cavalry,  but,  Doctor, 
they  won't  do  it,  so  you  need  not  worry,  they  are  not 
thinking  of  anything,  except  holding  their  position,  so 
make  yourself  easy.  The  enemy  are  thinking  more  of 
staying  in  than  getting  out,  I  know  him."  And  this 
was  all  my  satisfaction,  and  it  all  turned  out  just  as  he 
General  said,  but  nevertheless,  I  felt  that  my  fears  had 
been  well  founded. 

I  do  not  intend  here  to  give  any  military  account  of 
the  attack  on  Fort  Donelson.  I  am  only  telling  about 
myself,  but  this  is  the  schedule  of  the  several  days'  op 
erations.  With  about  15,000  men  on  February  I2th, 
1862,  Wednesday,  we  left  Fort  Henry  and  arrived  before 
Fort  Donelson.  February  I3th,  1862  (Thursday),  was 
occupied  in  extending  siege,  positions,  etc.,  and  skirmish 
ing  and  fighting  on  right  in  front  of  General  McCler- 
nand.  February  I4th  (Friday),  there  was  little  fighting, 
with  an  attack  by  a  gunboat  fleet  under  Commander 
Foote,*  which  failed.  February  I5th  (Saturday),  the 
enemy  made  a  fierce  sortie  and  are  repulsed,  and  retire 
into  the  fort.  General  Grant  visits  the  fleet.  February 

*Andrew  Hull  Foote,  the  venerable  Admiral  and  Christian  gen 
tleman  worn  out  with  hard  service,  died  during  the  war  while  on 
his  way  to  rejoin  his  fleet.  Notwithstanding  he  had  grog  abolished 
in  the  Navy  he  was  very  much  beloved  by  the  sailors  who  often 
sung  of  him :  "He  increased  our  pay  ten  cents  a  day,  And  stopped 
our  rum  forever."  E.  T.  S. 


Fort  Henry— Fort  Donelson  119 

i6th  (Sunday),  surrender  of  Fort  Donelson  to  the  Union 
forces  under  General  Grant.* 

My  exact  professional  position  at  this  battle  was  a 
peculiar  one.  The  Medical  Director  of  the  District  of 
Cairo,  General  Grant's  command,  was  Surgeon  James 
Simons,  U.  S.  A.  He,  however,  did  not  accompany  this 
expedition,  but  sent  me  as  his  representative  with  General 
Grant. 

Surgeon  Henry  S.  Hewitt,  U.  S.  Vols.  (Brigade  Sur 
geon)  next  in  rank  above  me  on  the  army  list  was  the 
surgeon  and  medical  director  of  the  command  of  General 
Chas.  F.  Smith,  who  was  under  the  order  of  General 
Grant,  and  who  commanded  the  division  originally  sta 
tioned  at,  and  around,  Paducah,  Ky. 

Dr.  Hewitt  was,  therefore,  during  the  Fort  Donelson 
campaign  the  acting  Medical  Director  in  the  field  of 
General  Grant's  forces,  although  himself  attached  to  the 
staff  of  General  Smith,  outranked  by  General  Grant. 
Dr.  Hewitt  and  I  arranged  matters  between  ourselves. 
He  would  remain  with  General  Smith  to  whom  he  was 
strongly  attached,  while  I  was  to  look  after  the  hospitals, 
to  see  to  their  organization,  the  transportation  of  the 
wounded,  and  to  the  general  surgery  of  the  field,  and  this 
I  did  thoroughly,  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  A  great 
many  operations  I  performed  myself,  and  many  others 
I  assisted  and  directed  in  performing. 

On  the  1 5th,  in  the  early  morning,  General  Grant  went 

*For  my  official  report  of  the  "Account  of  the  campaign  of  the 
Army  of  the  Tennessee  from  February  to  June,  1862,  including  the 
capture  of  Forts  Henry  and  Donelson,  and  the  battles  of  Shiloh  and 
Corinth,  by  Surgeon  John  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  V.,  Medical  Director  of 
the  Army  of  the  Tennessee."  See  Medical  and  Surgical  History  of 
the  Rebellion,  Part  I,  Medical  Vol.  and  appendix,  Part  I,  Page  24, 
Paper  28. 


120  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

down  to  the  fleet  on  the  Cumberland  River  to  consult 
with  Commodore  Foote,  who  had  been  wounded  on  the 
previous  day,  and  who  had  failed  with  his  gunboats  to 
pass  or  force  the  strong  batteries  commanding  the  ascent 
of  the  river.  Several  of  his  vessels  had  been  badly  hit, 
and  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  return  to  Cairo,  or  rather 
to  Mound  City  to  refit.  It  was  during  this  absence  of 
the  General  from  camp,  about  which  so  much  was  un 
kindly  said,  and  has  since  been  written,  that  the  enemy 
made  its  famous  sortie,  attacking  our  right  under  General 
McClernand,  and  driving  it  back  in  confusion.  Infor 
mation  of  this  was  carried  to  General  Grant,  who  hurried 
rapidly  forward,  to  assume  personal  command  and  to 
resume  the  fight.  What  he  did  and  how  he  did  it,  and 
how  nobly  he  retrieved  the  day,  and  turned  defeat  into 
victory,  and  how  the  fort  fell,  are  all  now  matters  of 
history.  On  his  arrival,  he  found  our  right  in  confusion, 
and  driven  back,  although  at  a  halt.  The  left  of  our 
line  under  General  C.  F.  Smith  was  in  excellent  condition, 
and  as  yet  unengaged.  The  center,  in  part,  had  gone  to 
the  help  of  our  right,  and  its  presence  had  been  sufficient 
to  check  the  onslaught  of  the  enemy,  and  cause  them  to 
draw  back  within  their  lines.  They  had  thus  f ailed-  to  cut 
their  way  out,  but  they  still  held  their  fort,  strongly 
defended  by  earthworks,  batteries,  and  with  most  for 
midable  abattis.  It  was  through  an  obstruction  of  this 
kind  that  our  men  had  to  pass  to  enter  the  fort.  General 
C.  F.  Smith,  who  commanded  our  left,  was  ordered  by 
Grant  to  lead  his  command  through  the  abattis,  and  to 
pierce,  if  possible,  the  enemy's  lines.  This  he  did  at 
once,  and  about  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  led  his  men 
forward.  The  move  was  one  of  difficulty,  the  abattis 
was  dense  and  the  enemy  fought  at  great  advantage.  At 
one  time,  at  the  outset,  our  troops  wavered  in  pushing 


Fort  Henry — Fort  Donelson  121 

through  the  obstructions.  General  Smith  rallied  them 
with  curses.  In  a  letter  to  Dr.  DaCosta  from  Fort 
Donelson,  dated  March  2nd,  1862,  I  remark:  "You 
ought  to  have  heard  old  C.  F.  Smith  cursing  as  he  led 
on  his  storming  regiments.  'Damn  you  gentlemen,  I  see 
skulkers,  I'll  have  none  here.  Come  on,  you  volunteers, 
come  on,'  he  shouted.  'This  is  your  chance.  You  vol 
unteered  to  be  killed  for  love  of  country,  and  now  you 
can  be.  You  are  only  damned  volunteers.  I'm  only  a 
soldier,  and  don't  want  to  be  killed,  but  you  came  to  be 
killed  and  now  you  can  be.'  And  so  the  old  cock  led 
them  with  a  mixture  of  oaths  and  entreaties  over  the 
breastwork.  The  loss  was  heavy,  but  he  never  flinched, 
but  sat  straight  on  his  horse,  his  long  white  moustache, 
his  stature  and  his  commanding  presence,  making  him  a 
conspicuous  mark.  He  was  every  inch  a  soldier,  and  a 
true  disciplinarian.  Without  Grant  and  Smith  there 
would  have  been  no  such  result,  so  no  more  sneers  about 
the  regulars.  They  are  the  men;  without  them  volun 
teers  are  but  a  rabble.  I  believe  that  with  the  splendid 
material  for  the  ranks,  all  we  want  are  good  officers  to 
have  the  most  magnificent  army  in  the  world." 

Seeing  his  front  line  shrinking  and  wavering,  the  Gen 
eral  turned  to  my  friend  Surgeon  H.  S.  Hewitt,  U.  S.  V., 
who  was  by  his  side,  saying,  "Hewitt,  my  God,  my 
friend,  if  you  love  me,  go  back,  and  bring  up  another 

regiment  of  these  d volunteers.    You  will  find  them 

behind  the  bushes."  And  this  Hewitt  did,  leading  the 
men  forward,  himself  mounted,  and  the  yellow  staff 
trappings  on  his  black  horse,  making  him  a  most  con 
spicuous  object,  as  he  headed  the  regiment  until  the 
abattis  was  reached.  With  the  regiment  he  passed 
through  by  the  side  of  his  General,  until  a  lodgment  was 
effected  inside  the  hostile  lines.  This  gallant  assault 


122  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

of  General  Smith,  and  his  success,  ensured  the  surrender 
of  Fort  Donelson  on  the  following  morning. 

I  ought  to  say  something  here  of  these  two  men,  so 
typical  of  their  kind.  General  C.  F.  Smith  was  the  very 
beau-ideal  of  a  soldier,  I  mean  the  real  soldier;  at  the 
time  of  which  I  am  writing,  he  had  been  thirty-seven 
years  in  the  service,  having  been  appointed  a  brevet 
second  lieutenant  in  the  Second  Artillery  in  1825  (eigh 
teen  years  before  General  Grant  entered  the  service). 
General  Smith  had,  I  think,  been  commandant  of  the 
Military  Academy  of  West  Point  when  General  Grant 
was  a  cadet,  or  if  not,  he  was  on  duty  there  at  that  time. 
He  was  tall,  six  feet  three,  I  should  think,  slender,  well 
proportioned,  upright,  with  a  remarkably  fine  face,  and 
a  long  twisted  white  moustache.  He  was  a  strict  dis 
ciplinarian,  fearless,  determined,  grim.  Altogether,  he 
was  a  typical  military  man  in  his  appearance,  air  and 
manner.  He  had  served  in  the  Mexican  War  with  dis 
tinction,  and  was  respected  in  the  old  army.  He  had 
some  of  the  faults  of  his  kind,  but  a  braver,  bolder,  more 
determined  soldier,  never  lived.  Dr.  Hewitt  was  a 
surgeon  in  my  own  corps,  one  of  the  Brigade  Surgeons, 
afterwards  known  as  Surgeons  of  Volunteers,  U.  S.  A. 
He  had  originally  been  an  assistant  surgeon  in  the  reg 
ular  army  before  the  war,  but  resigned,  and  on  the  out 
break  of  the  rebellion,  entered  as  a  Brigade  Surgeon, 
standing  third  on  the  list.  His  name  was  next  above  my 
own.  He  was  a  very  brave  man,  impulsive,  easily  irri 
tated,  but  kind  and  generous.  He  had  a  somewhat 
poetic  temperament,  and  I  have  copied  here  his  "Song 
of  the  Shell" ;  written  under  fire,  I  think,  he  told  me,  on 
the  field  of  Shiloh,  where  he  greatly  distinguished  him 
self  for  his  professional  efficiency  and  personal  gallantry. 


Fort  Henry — Fort  Donelson  123 


SONG   OF   THE   SHELL. 

There's  a  music  aloft  in  the  air, 
As  if  devils  were  singing  a  song, 
There's   a   shriek,   like  a  shriek  of   Despair, 
There's  a  crash  which  the  echoes  prolong. 

There's  a  voice  like  the  voice  of  the  gale, 
When  it  strikes  a  tall  ship  on  the  sea. 
There's  a  rift  like  the  rent  of  her  sail, 
As  she  helplessly  drifts  to  the  Sea. 

There's  a  rush,  like  the  rushing  of  fiends, 
Compelled  by  some  horrible  spell, 
There's   a  flame,   like  the   flaming  of   brands, 
Plucked  in  rage  from  the  fires  of  Hell. 

There's    a   wreath,   like   the   foam   on   the    wave, 
There's  a  silence  unbroke  by  a  breath, 
There's  a  thud,  like  the  clod  in  a  grave, 
There  is  writhing,  and  moaning,  and  Death. 


CHAPTER  X 

INCIDENTS  OF  THE  SIEGE  OF  FORT  DONELSON 

Before  speaking  of  the  capture  of  Fort  Donelson,  I 
must  call  attention  to  some  events  of  the  investment  of 
the  place.  The  weather  was  terrible  during  almost  the 
entire  time,  alternating  between  sleet  and  snow,  especially 
at  night.  It  was  very  cold,  and  the  sufferings  and  dep 
rivations  of  the  men  were  excessive.  As  our  lines  ex 
tended  close  around  the  works,  it  was  necessary  to 
conceal  the  exact  position  of  the  soldiers  as  much  as 
possible.  Fires,  therefore,  on  the  front  lines  were  not 
permitted,  and  I  wondered  at  the  time  how  our  poor 
fellows  could  endure  the  long  cold  nights  without  fires 
and  with  insufficient  coverings.  This  latter  statement 
may  seem  strange,  but  the  fact  is  that  in  the  march  across 
the  country,  many  of  the  men  had  found  their  blankets 
and  overcoats  cumbersome,  and  had  left  them  by  the 
roadside,  or  placed  them  in  wagons,  which  had  failed  to 
make  a  redistribution.  As  it  was,  very  many  of  the 
troops  laid  on  the  ground  at  nigHt,  tentless,  fireless,  and 
with  scanty  covering.  In  spite  of  all  this  exposure,  no 
cases  of  tetanus  occurred  among  the  wounded  at  Fort 
Donelson. 

Another  matter  which  caused  the  Medical  Depart 
ment  much  anxiety  was  the  removal  of  the  wounded  to 
the  rear. 

This  was  a  sort  of  double  matter,  a  removal  by  two 
stages,  as  it  were.  The  first  one  was  to  transport  the 

124 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  125 

wounded  man  from  the  place  where  he  fell  to  the  ad 
vanced  point  where  the  ambulance  could  reach  him.  The 
second  stage  was  his  conveyance  to  the  hospitals  in  the 
rear.  The  latter  part  of  the  trip  was  comparatively  easy. 
All  the  regimental  ambulances  and  extra  wagons  had 
formed  themselves  into  a  sort  of  ambulance  train,  which 
ran  steadily  and  systematically  to  and  from  the  hospital 
centers.  The  train  was  under  the  charge  of  a  commis 
sioned  officer,  who  proved  himself  efficient  and  in 
telligent.  The  first  part  of  the  trip,  however,  was  a 
matter  of  much  more  difficulty,  for  it  was  no  easy  under 
taking  to  carry  the  wounded,  those  helplessly  wounded, 
from  under  the  guns  of  the  enemy.  Yet  this  was  accom 
plished,  and  shortly  after  dark  on  each  day's  fight,  all 
of  the  injured  were  brought  in  and  sent  to  the  rear 
hospital. 

To  accomplish  this  required  much  cool  courage,  and 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  cases  of  heroism  I  witnessed 
on  the  last  day's  battle.  A  Methodist  clergyman  (a 
chaplain,  attached  to  one  of  the  regiments,  I  believe), 
devoted  himself  to  the  removal  of  the  wounded.  He 
was  a  man  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  tall,  strong  and 
well  built,  of  quiet,  yet  resolute  manner.  He  had  his 
horse  and  spent  his  time  riding  to  the  extreme  front,  ab 
solutely  under  the  enemy's  fire.  Here  he  dismounted  and 
selecting  the  worst  of  our  wounded  men,  he  would  lift 
him  into  his  saddle,  hold  him  there  with  one  hand,  while 
with  the  other  he  would  lead  his  horse  back  through 
the  lines  to  the  rear  hospital.  Sometimes,  he  would 
bring  off  two  wounded  men  at  one  trip.  I  watched  him 
do  this,  and  I  must  confess,  felt  a  high  appreciation  of 
his  courage,  moral  and  physical,  and  the  sincerity  of  his 
religion.  I  was  glad  to  know  on  the  next  day  that  he 
had  escaped  unhurt.  I  cannot  but  think  that  his  chivalric 


126  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

bravery  was  appreciated  even  by  the  enemy,  who  seemed 
to  have  spared  him  while  on  his  self-imposed,  self- 
sacrificing  task. 

The  behavior  of  the  medical  officers  at  this  battle 
was  admirable.  General  Grant  thus  speaks  in  his  "Per 
sonal  Memoirs,"  Volume  I,  page  300,  "Up  to  this  time," 
(the  1 3th)  "the  surgeons  with  the  army  had  no  difficulty 
in  finding  room  in  the  houses  near  the  line  for  all  the 
sick  and  wounded;  but  now  hospitals  were  over 
crowded.  Owing,  however,  to  the  energy  and  skill  of 
the  surgeons,  the  suffering  was  not  so  great  as  it  might 
have  been.  The  hospital  arrangements  at  Fort  Donelson 
were  as  complete  as  it  was  possible  to  make  them,  con 
sidering  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  and  the  lack 
of  tents,  in  a  sparsely  settled  country,  where  the  homes 
were  generally  of  but  one  or  two  rooms." 

During  the  continuance  of  the  Fort  Donelson  cam 
paign,  I  had  ample  opportunities  of  witnessing  the 
military  operations,  and  of  seeing  what  was  going  on.  I 
had  not  only  to  supervise  the  surgery  of  the  rear  hos 
pitals,  and  in  a  general  way  to  see  that  the  wounded 
were  being  attended  to,  but  I  had  also  to  superintend 
their  transportation.  Moreover,  I  had  a  certain  responsi 
bility  with  regard  to  General  Grant  and  his  Staff.  I  was 
thus  kept  moving  from  one  point  to  another,  and  very 
many  strange,  sad,  and  sometimes  amusing  things  passed 
under  my  eyes. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  odd  character  of  many  of  the 
western  doctors,  who  were  now  regimental  surgeons. 
One  of  these,  a  Doctor,  or  let  me  say,  Surgeon  Henry 
Winter  Davis  (I  think  of  the  i8th  Illinois  Infantry), 
was  a  most  impulsive,  efficient,  outspoken  man.  On  the 
last  day'?  f^ht.  I  found  him  with  a  gun  in  his  hand, 
firing  away  with  great  spirit.  I  rode  up  to  him,  and  said, 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  127 

"Doctor,  this  is  hardly  the  work  for  you  to  be  doing, 
you  ought  to  confine  yourself  to  strictly  professional 
work."  He  was  kneeling  on  the  ground  at  the  time.  He 
stopped  his  shooting,  looked  up  at  me  with  a  queer  ex 
pression,  and  said,  "I'm  all  right,  Doctor,  I  have  done 
all  the  surgery  of  this  Regiment,  and  have  fired  forty-five 
shots,  by  G-d."  Then  he  added,  "I  am  glad  to  see  you 
here.  I  am  glad  you're  not  a  feather-bed  doctor,"  and  he 
went  on  with  his  belligerent  pastime. 

This  same  surgeon,  I  think,  had  a  curious  case.  A 
soldier  was  brought  to  him,  with  a  dreadfully  crushed 
leg,  apparently  greatly  swollen  and  distorted.  He 
promptly  amputated  just  above  the  knee,  when  out  rolled 
a  12-pound  shot  or  shell,  from  the  tissues  behind  the 
knee  joint,  and  the  upper  part  of  the  leg  where  it  had 
been  concealed.  I  learned  of  this  case  verbally,  and  on 
inquiry,  found  that  this  actually  occurred,  though  I  was 
not  able  to  procure  the  projectile,  for  the  Army  Medical 
Museum  at  Washington. 

I  remember  well  one  funny  incident  which  happened 
at  this  time.  General  Grant  had  a  body  servant  named 
Frank,  French  Frank  we  called  him  from  his  nationality. 
He  was  a  great  talker,  and  boastful,  and  often  expressed 
a  wish  to  see  real  fighting,  and  as  he  expressed  it,  cannon- 
shooting.  It  happened  on  the  I5th,  that  he  wandered 
away  from  headquarters  and  several  of  us,  riding  on  a 
wood  road  near  the  front,  met  him.  "Why,  where  are 
you  going,  Frank,"  we  said,  "do  you  want  to  be  shot?'* 
Just  at  that  time,  there  happened  to  be  a  lull  in  the 
enemy's  battery  in  front.  "I  have  curiosity,"  said  Frank, 
"much  curiosity,  and  I  must  go  see  the  enemy's  fight." 
He  was  told  "Go  on,  that  road  will  surely  bring  you  to 
them."  Our  party  rode  on,  but  Frank  took  us  at  our 
word,  and  in  reality  did  march  on  in  the  half  open  space 


128  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

towards  the  enemy.  Suddenly,  we  heard  a  terrible  noise 
of  musketry  and  artillery  behind  us.  When  next  we 
saw  Frank,  he  greeted  us  thus :  "I  have  now  no  more 
curiosity;  it  is  satisfied,  it  is  all  gone;  the  enemy  did 
allow  me  to  come  near  them,  then  all  at  once,  they  did 
begin  to  shoot  at  me,  but  I  escaped  them,  and  behold 
me!" 

I  have  already  referred  to  our  headquarter's  accommo 
dations  at  Mrs.  Crip's.  In  this  little  house,  I  was  a  wit 
ness  to  one  or  two  strange  incidents,  which  as  far  as  I 
know  have  not  as  yet  found  their  way  into  print. 

The  enemy  made  their  last  sortie  on  the  I5th,  which 
was  unsuccessful.  As  I  happened  to  be  in  our  kitchen 
bedroom  in  the  after  part  of  the  day,  I  heard  General 
Grant  give  orders  to  Captain  Hiller,  an  aide-de-camp,  to 
get  ready  to  go  down  the  Cumberland  River  at  once 
by  boat  to  Smithland,  a  little  station  at  or  near  the  junc 
tion  of  the  Cumberland  and  Ohio  Rivers,  and  the  nearest 
point  of  telegraph.  When  he  should  reach  there,  he  was 
directed  by  General  Grant  to  send  a  dispatch  to  General 
Halleck,  the  Commandant  of  the  Department,  informing 
him  that  "Fort  Donelson  would  surrender  on  the  follow 
ing  morning."  I  am  not  quite  certain  whether  General 
Grant  sent  a  \vritten  telegraphic  message,  or  whether  he 
simply  verbally  directed  Hillyer  to  do  so  on  his  arrival  at 
Smithland,  but  of  the  tenor  of  the  message,  and  I  think 
even  the  very  words  used,  I  am  positive.  When  I  was 
alone  with  the  General,  I  said  to  him,  "General,  was  it 
not  a  little  dangerous  to  send  so  positive  a  message 
as  to  what  the  enemy  will  do  tomorrow?  Suppose  he 
don't  do  it?"  "Doctor,"  said  the  General  to  me,  "he  will 
do  it.  I  rode  over  the  field  this  afternoon  and  examined 
some  of  the  dead  bodies  of  his  men;  their  knapsacks,  as 
well  as  their  haversacks,  were  full  of  food;  they  were 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  129 

fighting  to  get  away,  and  now  that  they  have  failed,  they 
will  surrender.  I  knew  their  Generals  (Buckner  and 
Pillow)  in  Mexico,  and  they  will  do  as  I  have  said."  I 
felt  at  that  moment  that  I  was  talking  to  an  extraordinary 
man. 

The  night  was  inclement.  Our  troops  slept  on  their 
arms,  General  C.  F.  Smith's  division  being  absolutely 
within  the  lines  of  defense  around  Fort  Donelson.  All 
apparently  passed  quietly  enough,  no  sorties  were  made 
by  the  enemy  and  no  attack  by  us.  General  Grant  slept 
at  his  headquarters  in  a  feather  bed  in  the  kitchen,  and 
I  remember  that  I  was  curled  up  on  the  floor  near  the 
fire  with  my  head  resting  in  the  seat  of  my  saddle. 
Early,  very  early,  an  orderly  entered,  ushering  in  Gen 
eral  C.  F.  Smith,  who  seemed  very  cold,  indeed  half 
frozen.  He  walked  at  once  to  the  open  fire  on  the 
hearth,  for  a  moment  warmed  his  feet,  then  turned  his 
back  to  the  fire,  facing  General  Grant  who  had  slipped 
out  of  bed,  and  who  was  quickly  drawing  on  his  outer 
clothes.  "There's  something  for  you  to  read,  General 
Grant,"  said  Smith,  handing  him  a  letter,  and  while  he 
was  doing  so,  Smith  asked  us  for  something  to  drink. 
My  flask,  the  only  liquor  on  the  Staff,  was  handed  to 
him,  and  he  helped  himself  in  a  soldier-like  manner.  I 
can  almost  see  him  now,  erect,  manly,  every  inch  a 
soldier,  standing  in  front  of  the  fire,  twisting  his  long 
white  moustache  and  wiping  his  lips.  "What  answer 
shall  I  send  to  this,  General  Smith,"  asked  Grant.  "No 
terms  to  the  damned  rebels,"  replied  Smith.  Those 
were  his  actual  words.  General  Grant  gave  a  short 
laugh,  and  drawing  a  piece  of  paper,  letter  size,  and  of 
rather  poor  quality,  began  to  write.  In  a  short  time, 
certainly,  not  many  minutes,  he  finished  and  read  aloud 
as  if  to  General  Smith,  but  really  so  that  we  under- 


130  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

strappers  could  all  hear,  his  famous  "Unconditional  sur 
render"  letter,  ending  with,  "I  propose  to  move  imme 
diately  upon  your  works."  General  Smith  gave  a  short 
emphatic  "Hm!"  and  remarking,  "It's  the  same  thing 
in  smoother  words,"  stalked  out  of  the  room  to  deliver 
the  letter,  which  was  shortly  followed  by  the  return  an 
swer  of  surrender.  I  recollect  distinctly  every  feature 
of  this  visit  of  General  Smith,  his  magnificent  appear 
ance,  soldier-like  bearing,  and  his  abrupt  mode  of 
speech.  The  exposure  of  these  nights  must  have  told 
on  him  severely;  he  felt  the  cold  and  thrust  out  his  feet 
and  said,  "See  how  the  soles  of  my  boots  burned;  I  slept 
last  night  with  my  head  in  the  saddle,  and  with  my  feet 
too  near  the  fire;  I've  scorched  my  boots." 

I  shortly  went  about  my  professional  duties,  and  later 
in  the  morning,  about  eleven  o'clock,  I  learned  that  the 
surrender  had  been  consummated,  and  that  General 
Grant  and  his  staff  were  on  a  boat.  Here  I  joined 
them,  and  found  that  the  stateroom  adjoining  the  Gen 
eral's,  had  been  assigned  to  me. 

About  this  time  Lieutenant-Colonel  McPherson,*  soon 
to  become  so  famous,  and  to  die  so  gallantly,  visited 
our  headquarters.  We  were  then  all  living  in  a  small 
frame  house  known  as  Mrs.  Crip's.  While  he  was  there 
I  came  to  know  him  well.  In  the  first  place,  I  took  to 
him  greatly;  he  was  so  winning  and  yet  so  manly.  He 
suffered  with  a  cystic  tumor  of  the  neck,  low  down, 
which  pressed  apparently  backwards,  and  interfered  with 
tracheal  respiration.  For  this,  he  consulted  me.  I  must 
add  that  he  was  a  good  friend  of  my  old  friend,  Major, 

*Jamcs  Birdseye  McPherson,  killed  at  Atlanta  while  command 
ing  the  Army  of  the  Tennessee,  temporarily  succeeded  for  a  few 
days  by  John  A.  Logan,  and  then  to  the  close  of  the  war  succeeded 
by  Maj.  Gen  Oliver  Otis  Howard. — E.  T.  S. 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  131 

afterwards  General  Hawkins.  So  from  one  cause  or 
another,  in  a  few  hours,  we  became  very  good  friends, 
and  one  evening  he  told  me,  "Doctor,  my  breathing  is 
bad,  and  I  will  sleep  awhile  in  the  cold,  out  on  the  porch ; 
come,  lie  down  with  me,  I  want  to  ask  you  some  ques 
tions."  I  did  so,  and  rolled  up  in  my  buffalo  robe  close 
to  him.  Then  he  told  me,  "I  have  been  ordered  here, 
and  instructed  to  obtain  special  information.  All  sorts 
of  reports  are  prevalent  at  St.  Louis  (the  headquarters 
of  General  Halleck,  Grant's  superior  officer),  as  to  Gen 
eral  Grant's  habits.  It  is  said  that  he  is  drinking  terri 
bly,  and  in  every  way  is  inefficient.  I  am  fond  of  him, 
and  want  to  do  him  justice."  I  told  him  as  earnestly 
as  I  could  the  truth, — that  the  reports  were  unfounded, 
that  I  knew  they  were  false,  and  assured  him  that  to 
my  knowledge  there  was  no  liquor  on  the  Staff,  that 
the  contents  of  my  pocket  flask  was  the  whole  supply, 
and  that  I  had  been  cautioned  by  General  Grant  as  to 
its  disposal,  being  positively  forbidden  to  give  any  to 
any  of  the  staff,  except  in  medical  urgency.  I  explained 
to  McPherson  that  there  were  men  near  the  General  who 
disliked  him  and  were  jealous  of  him;  yet,  knowing  this, 
and  their  attempts  at  detraction,  he  still  moved  on,  un 
disturbed.  I  think,  indeed  I  am  quite  sure,  that  Col. 
McPherson  believed  me,  and  said  that  he  would  so  re 
port  to  General  Halleck  on  his  return,  and  was  glad  to 
be  able  to  do  so.  He  did  do  so,  as  he  afterwards 
assured  me  when  I  saw  him  at  St.  Louis. 

Shortly  after  the  surrender,  I  went  down  to  the  head 
quarters'  boat  on  which  General  Grant  was.  On  my  way, 
I  noticed  that  the  Confederate  soldiers  were  doing  a 
brisk  business,  by  selling  their  bowie  knives  and  small 
arms  to  our  men  who  were  buying  them  eagerly  as 
trophies.  I  myself,  had  bought  a  very  beautiful  knife 


132  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

with  a  brass  lion  head,  for  which  I  had  paid  one  dollar, 
and  handed  it  to  my  servant  to  bring  on  board.  I 
casually  mentioned  this  traffic  (but  not  my  purchase), 
to  the  General.  As  all  captured  arms  were  the  property 
of  the  Government,  he  issued  an  immediate  order  to  the 
guards  to  confiscate  all  such  arms,  wherever  found.  As 
they  went  to  the  shore  to  carry  out  the  order,  it  hap 
pened  that  the  first  person  met  was  my  contraband 
(negro)  servant,  carrying  my  luggage  and  prominently 
displaying  my  recently  purchased  lion-headed  bowie 
knife.  My  servant  repbrted  the  loss  to  me,  and  I  begged 
hard  for  my  knife  from  the  General,  but  he  would  not 
accede  to  my  request.  However,  a  day  or  two  after 
wards,  he  picked  out  a  handsome  Confederate  sword 
from  a  pile  of  captured  arms,  and  gave  it  to  me,  as 
he  said  "to  make  up  for  my  loss."  The  sword,  a 
Solingen  blade,  has  C.  S.  A.  on  the  blade,  and  the  same 
letters  on  the  brass  hilt,  which  I  was  told  was  cast  in 
Mobile,  and  is  roughly  finished.  This  sword  I  still  have. 
At  the  same  time  General  Grant  gave  me  a  wooden 
handled  bowie  knife,  which  had  been  made  from  a 
Southern  cornstalk  chopper. 

About  an  hour  or  so  after  the  actual,  but  informal, 
surrender  I  entered  the  fort,  passing  through  the  abattis 
and  I  at  once  hunted  our  headquarters.  General  Grant's 
table  was  placed  behind  the  dingy  curtains,  which  sepa 
rated  what  I  suppose  had  been  the  ladies'  cabin  from 
the  general  cabin.  When  I  went  in,  the  General  was 
writing  his  official  report  of  the  surrender.  A  number 
of  officers  were  present.  I  quite  vividly  remember  that 
at  the  time  I  was  offering  my  congratulations  to  the 
General,  that  I  said  very  kindly  to  him,  "General,  you 
are  going  to  be  the  President  of  the  United  States.  If 
I  ask  you  then  for  a  not  improper  office,  will  you  give 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  133 

it  to  me?"  He  laughed,  and  said,  "Doctor,  I  will;  what 
do  you  think  you  will  want?"  "I  should  like  to  be 
Secretary  of  Legation  to  Paris,"  said  I.  "You  shall 
have  it,"  he  replied,  "when  I  am  President  of  the  United 
States." 

I  often  thought  of  this  afterwards.  My  imaginary 
choice  was  based  upon  the  fact  that  Dr.  DaCota  and 
I  had  often  thought  what  a  nice  position  that  must  be 
for  a  young  unmarried  man.  We  remembered  a  Secre 
tary  of  Legation  who  always  received  his  visitors  in  the 
last  of  seven  or  eight  salons,  "en  suite."  It  was  im 
pressive. 

The  capture  of  Fort  Donelson,  and  what  it  carried 
with  it  was  immense,  not  less  than  15,000  men  and  many 
guns.  The  force  under  General  Grant's  command  was 
less  than  30,000  men.  A  great  many  of  the  enemy 
escaped  in  the  night  preceding  the  surrender,  and  with 
them,  Generals  Floyd,  Pillow  and  Forrest  with  his 
cavalry  force.  At  this  time  I  had  frequent  oppor 
tunities  of  talking  quietly  with  the  General,  and  I  was 
much  impressed  with  his  magnanimity.  Once,  probably 
on  the  day  of  the  surrender,  I  asked  him  how  soon,  or 
when,  the  enemy  would  be  paraded  and  the  formalities 
of  surrender  gone  through  with,  such  as  the  lowering 
of  the  standard  and  the  stacking  of  the  guns,  and  the 
delivery  of  the  Confederate  commander's  sword. 
"There  will  be  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  General  Grant 
to  me.  "The  surrender  is  now  a  fact;  we  have  the 
fort,  the  men,  the  guns.  Why  should  we  go  through 
vain  forms,  and  mortify  and  injure  the  spirit  of  brave 
men,  who,  after  all  are  our  own  countrymen  and 
brothers."  All  this  seemed  very  strange  to  me  whose 
mind  was  filled  with  the  pageantry  of  European  war 
fare,  as  I  had  lately  been  reading  Jomini,  Thiers,  and 


134  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

other  books  on  warfare  and  war  history.    But  it  showed 
the  kind  of  man  Grant  was. 

Grant  was  a  ready  writer;  he  wrote  tersely,  rapidly 
and  very  rarely  struck  out  or  altered;  occasionally  I 
have  seen  him  interline  a  word  or  two.  If  any  one 
was  present  whom  he  trusted,  he  would  read  a  line  or 
two  aloud.  I  remember  once,  while  on  the  boat  at 
Donelson,  he  was  writing  some  report;  he  had  arrived 
near  the  bottom  of  the  page  of  the  first  half  sheet,  and 
was  about  to  sign.  Looking  up,  he  saw  me,  read  what 
he  had  written,  and  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  it.  I 
remarked  that  its  termination  seemed  a  little  abrupt. 
He  read  it,  and  said,  "So  it  is,"  and  then  adding  two 
or  three  lines,  he  carried  over  to  the  next  page,  and 
signed,  saying,  "It  does  look  better  now." 

My  chief  occupation  at  this  time  was  looking  after 
the  wounded  and  having  them  transported  to  the  boat, 
fitted  up  for  their  reception  and  transfer,  as  fast  as 
possible.  They  were  put  on  board,  carefully  attended 
to  and  dressed,  and  then  moved  in  the  hospital  boats  to 
the  great  hospitals  at  Mound  City,  Cairo,  St.  Louis, 
Louisville  and  Cincinnati.  Among  our  prisoners,  I 
found  several  of  my  old  students,  who  were  serving  in 
the  medical  corps  of  the  enemy.  I  was  glad  to  see  them, 
but  the  pleasure  was  somewhat  inconvenient,  as  I  had 
to  share  my  underclothes  among  them,  as  they  were  all 
destitute  of  linen.  One  or  two  of  the  southern  sur 
geons  (I  do  not  refer  to  any  of  my  old  friends)  served 
us  a  shabby  trick.  It  was  reported  at  headquarters  that 
some  distance,  seven  or  eight  miles,  up  the  river,  and 
on  the  opposite  shore,  a  rebel  colonel  was  lying,  griev 
ously  wounded.  Two  of  the  rebel  doctors  were  sent 
under  parole  to  see  to  him,  and  bring  him  in.  They 
went,  did  not  visit  him,  and  then  vanished  to  their  homes 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  135 

or  elsewhere.  The  poor  fellow,  thus  abandoned,  again 
sent  to  headquarters,  complaining  piteously  of  his  con 
dition  and  his  neglect.  I  was  ordered  to  go  and  look 
after  him.  I  did  so,  gave  the  necessary  directions,  and 
succeeded  with  much  difficulty  in  boarding  a  down-going 
steamer,  returning  to  Donelson. 

I  ought  to  tell  you  that  the  river  at  this  time  was  very 
high,  forty  feet  above  its  ordinary  mark.  This  flooded 
a  great  extent  of  country  and  swept  away  large  trees, 
frame  and  log  houses,  and  created  a  terrible  current. 
At  one  time,  when  we  were  occupying  Fort  Donelson, 
and  the  adjoining  town  of  Dover,  the  water  was  rising 
an  inch  an  hour.  Our  boats  were  moored  to  the  bank, 
and  the  rise  and  subsequent  fall  of  the  water  kept  the 
captains  of  our  boats  constantly  on  the  watch.  Our 
horses  were  stabled  on  the  boiler  deck,  and  it  was  strange 
to  see  how  soon  they  became  accustomed  to  these 
quarters,  and  how  thoroughly  they  associated  the  idea 
of  home  with  a  boat,  in  no  way  disturbed  by  the 
peculiar  and  noisy  machinery  of  a  Mississippi  steamer. 
I  was  riding  at  that  time  a  fine  black  horse,  who  swam 
very  high  out  of  water.  He  was  not  a  pleasant-tem 
pered  horse,  but  he  had  sort  of  a  good  feeling  toward 
me.  He  liked  his  boat,  and  on  one  occasion  when  the 
river  was  falling,  and  the  descent  of  the  river  bank  to 
the  boat  was  somewhat  difficult,  having  occasion  to 
go  on  board  of  our  headquarters  boat  for  a  few  minutes, 
I  left  my  black  steed  standing  on  the  bank  above. 
Whilst  on  board,  it  became  necessary  to  change  the 
mooring  of  the  boat,  and  to  do  this,  the  Captain  un 
moored  and  began  to  back  off  from  the  shore,  intend 
ing  to  come  in  again  to  a  satisfactory  spot.  When  he 
had  gone  several  feet  from  the  shore,  I  happened  to 
come  down  to  the  boiler  deck.  As  I  was  on  the  stair. 


136  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

I  was  startled  by  a  shuffling,  sliding  sound,  a  rush,  and 
in  a  second  my  horse  landed  quite  satisfactorily  on  the 
boat,  having  made  the  leap  from  the  shore,  across  open 
water.  He  did  not  intend  to  be  left  behind. 

The  arrangement  of  the  great  wastern  steamers  was 
well  suited  for  the  accommodation  of  animals.  They 
were  packed  in  tightly,  and  in  the  main  got  along  in 
a  friendly  spirit.  On  one  occasion,  I  was  walking  on 
the  lower  deck,  when  I  met  General  Grant  limping 
terribly,  and  rubbing  his  leg.  "Why,  what  is  the 
matter,  General,"  said  I.  "Nothing.  Oh  nothing,  Doc 
tor,"  he  replied.  "I  have  just  been  to  see  Jack"  (his 
big  favorite  stallion),  "and  he  seems  a  little  playful  this 
morning,"  and  off  he  limped,  and  all  day  continued 
bragging  of  Jack's  playfulness  and  general  Christian 
disposition. 

About  this  time  among  the  horses  tethered,  Major 
(afterward  General)  Rawlins,  Grant's  Chief  of  Staff, 
had  a  very  fine  bay,  with  a  splendid  tail,  which  he  was 
always  admiring,  saying  to  everyone,  "Just  see  that 
splendid  tail.  It  almost  touches  the  ground."  But, 
alas!  the  animal  was  tethered  in  front  of  a  mule,  and 
one  morning  the  tail  was  changed,  the  hair  had  disap 
peared,  and  the  bones  stuck  out  bare  and  ragged,  not 
very  much  longer  than  your  hand  and  wrist.  The  fact 
was  reported  to  Rawlins,  and  we  went  with  him  to 
examine  the  catastrophe.  The  report  was  true.  At  that 
time,  Rawlins  was  very  profane,  even  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  but  this  incident  was  overwhelming  to 
him.  At  first,  supposing  this  mutilation  to  have  been 
the  deliberate  work  of  some  malevolent  person,  his  in 
dignation  knew  no  bounds,  he  could  scarcely  find  anath 
emas  sufficiently  strong  to  do  justice  to  the  occasion. 
When  at  last,  it  was  discerned  that  the  ornamental  tail 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  137 

was  eaten  off  for  the  salt  in  it,  by  the  rear  mule,  Rawlins 
was  dumb  with  wrath. 

And  now  that  I  have  written  Rawlin's  name,  I  want 
to  say  something  about  him,  for  he  was  a  most  extraor 
dinary  man,  and  by  his  faithfulness  toward  the  Gen 
eral,  his  good  judgment,  his  fearless  and  outspoken  ex 
pression  of  his  convictions,  and  his  quick  sense  of  right 
and  wrong,  greatly  assisted  his  chief  in  arriving  at  just 
conclusions,  and  in  withstanding  the  temptations  by 
which  he  was  surrounded. 

You  will  scarcely  believe  or  comprehend  the  dangers 
which  encircled  the  General  at  this  time.  Bad  men  were 
ever  approaching  him,  seeking  to  further  their  own 
plans  and  interests ;  some  wanted  promotion ;  some, 
place;  and  others,  contracts,  or  the  equivalent,  recom 
mendations,  by  which  they  could  covertly  grasp  money. 
So  specious  were  their  propositions,  and  so  cunningly 
were  their  tricks  devised  and  concealed,  that  even  the 
most  wary  could  be  deceived.  And  just  here  it  was  that 
Rawlins's  cleverness  and  good  sense  were  evinced.  He 
was  a  young  lawyer  from  Galena;  he  had  known  Grant 
in  civil  life;  he  understood  him  and  knew  the  amiability 
of  his  disposition  and  his  attachment  to  those  whom  he 
regarded  as  his  friends,  and  it  seemed  to  me  even  at 
that  early  date,  that  he  deliberately  took  it  upon  himself 
to  guard  his  chief,  and  to  assume  the  part  of  the  watch 
dog  at  the  gate,  a  duty  which  he  discharged  to  the  great 
good  of  the  General  and  to  the  advantage  of  the  country. 

Rawlins  had  set  his  mind  upon  one  thing,  that  there 
should  be  no.  liquor  used  on  the  Staff,  save  for  medicinal 
purpose.  I  well  remember  that  on  one  occasion,  a  dis 
tinguished  officer  of  the  regular  army  was  assigned  to 
duty  on  the  Staff.  In  due  time,  he  arrived ;  his  baggage 
was  a  very  small  portmanteau,  and  a  quite  large  keg 


138  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

of  whiskey.  The  fact  was  reported  to  Rawlins,  who 
was  the  Adjutant-General  of  General  Grant's  Staff.  His 
direction  to  the  orderly  was  this:  "Start  the  bung  of 
the  keg,  then  throw  it  into  the  river,  and  then  carry 
the  valise  upstairs."  And  it  was  so  done,  to  the  chagrin 
of  the  officer,  who  thundered  as  loudly  as  one  of  his 
own  guns.  But  it  was  too  late,  the  keg  floating  away 
on  the  stream. 

Grant,  as  the  world  knows,  was  a  man  of  gentle  dis 
position,  yet  he  could  be  stern,  where  the  discipline  of 
his  profession  was  involved.  While  we  were  at  Donel- 
son,  it  was  reported  to  him  that  some  wanton  burning 
and  destruction  of  property  had  been  permitted  by  one 
of  his  favorite  colonels,  who  had  a  command  up  the 
river.  This  officer  had  paid  a  visit  to  our  headquarters, 
and  had  left  the  General  only  a  moment  or  so  before 
the  report  came  in.  If  was  apparently  truthful.  Grant's 
action  was  prompt.  Turning  to  one  of  his  aides,  he 
said,  "Captain,  follow  Colonel  -  — ,  arrest  him,  take  his 
sword,  and  order  him  to  report  to  me  at  once."  The 
unfortunate  Colonel  was  arrested,  to  his  intense  sur 
prise,  before  he  had  reached  the  top  of  the  river  bank, 
but  I  believe  he  made  his  peace,  as  the  charge  was  ex 
aggerated. 

About  the  24th  of  February,  as  nearly  as  I  can  fix 
the  time,  General  Grant,  with  his  Staff,  went  up  to 
Clarksville  by  boat.  This  place  had  been  evacuated  by 
the  enemy,  and  then  occupied  by  General  C.  F.  Smith, 
and  his  division,  acting  under  General  Grant's  order. 
The  town  had  some  comfortable  houses,  but  yet  it  seemed 
lonely  and  desolate.  On  the  following  morning  I  think, 
we  returned  to  Donelson ;  on  our  way  down,  while  mak 
ing  a  bend  in  the  river,  we  came  in  sight  of  a  number  of 
transports,  crowded  with  troops  coming  up.  The  General, 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  139 

who  was  sitting  at  a  table  in  his  headquarters  on  the  cabin 
deck,  talking  to  Rawlins,  when  informed  of  arriving 
troops,  brought  his  hand  down  sharply  on  the  table,  and 
exclaimed :  "Rawlins,  I  have  it ;  this  is  probably  Nelson 
and  his  command.  I  will  order  him  to  report  to  Buell 
at  Nashville." 

The  interview  between  Grant  and  Nelson  was  a  short 
one.  In  a  few  moments  the  latter  was  back  on  his  own 
boat,  and  the  dense  cloud  of  black  smoke,  which  rolled 
from  her  smoke  stacks,  told  plainly  enough  that  no 
time  would  be  lost  by  "Bully  Nelson/'  strange  mixture 
and  compound  of  sailor  and  soldier  that  he  was. 

So  Nelson  passed  up  to  occupy  Nashville,  and  Grant 
in  high  good  humor  sailed  down  to  his  old  position  be 
neath  Fort  Donelson.  On  the  27th  or  28th  of  February, 
Grant  with  all  his  staff  started  up  the  Cumberland  River 
to  Nashville.  The  town  looked  sullen  enough;  there 
had  been  but  little  real  Union  feeling  there,  although 
everyone  pretended  to  hold  Northern  sentiments. 
Nearly  all  whom  I  saw  were  traders,  anxious  to  estab 
lish  themselves,  and  to  replenish  old  stocks  now  ex 
hausted.  As  we  passed,  we  noticed  Buell's  troops  at 
Edgefield,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  Nash 
ville.  He  had  not  yet  been  able  to  cross,  lacking  trans 
portation,  and  Nelson  was  still  in  command  of  the 
town.  Before  we  left,  General  Buell,  with  a  full  staff, 
came  over  to  Grant's  boat.  Buell's  staff  seemed  large 
and  formal,  and  far  better  appointed  than  ours.  All 
the  same,  I  imagined  that  there  was  a  great  difference 
in  favor  of  our  General,  between  the  two  commanders. 
The  interview  was  formal,  but  I  thought  not  particularly 
cordial.  I  fancy  that  Buell  was  disposed  to  fault-find 
ing.  Some  of  his  words  could  be  heard,  and  such  was 
the  impression  conveyed  to  me,  and  to  others.  How- 


140  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

ever,  the  interview  was  soon  over,  and  we  turned  home 
wards, — that  is,  Donelsonward. 

While  at  Nashville,  we  all  narrowly  escaped  a  bad 
accident.  The  bridge  at  Edgefield  had  been  burned, 
but  the  stone  piers  still  stood.  Our  boat  was  above  the 
piers ;  the  river  level  was  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  above 
ordinary,  with  a  furious  current.  The  navigation  be 
tween  the  piers  was  very  difficult,  and  to  strike  the  piers 
would  have  been  the  destruction  of  our  boat.  Our 
steamer  in  coming  down,  swerved,  lost  her  headway, 
and  was  in  great  danger  of  striking  the  pier  sideways. 
A  catastrophe  seemed  inevitable,  but  somehow  or  other, 
the  pilot  brought  her  head  around  a  little,  and  we  passed 
through,  with  scarcely  an  inch  to  spare.  I  never  could 
understand  how  we  escaped;  for  a  moment  it  seemed 
as  if  we  had  not  a  ghost  of  a  chance. 

I  have  frequently  spoken  of  Grant's  humor.  Here  is 
an  illustration  apropos  of  a  little  question  of  mine.  A 
great  deal  had  been  said  about  the  water  battery  at 
Fort  Donelson  and  I  had  asked  the  General  what  a 
water  battery  really  was.  His  answer  had  been  "I  will 
tell  you  some  day,  Doctor."  On  this  trip,  as  we  were 
ascending  the  river,  an  orderly  came  for  me  in  great 
haste,  saying  the  General  wanted  me  immediately,  that 
I  was  to  report  to  him  without  delay.  I  obeyed  in 
stantly.  He  took  me  by  the  arm,  led  me  to  the 
"Texas,"  and  then  pointing  to  the  muzzle  of  a  single 
gun,  he  said  with  great  glee,  "There  is  a  water  battery, 
study  it  well,  and  you  will  learn  more  than  the  engineers 
know." 

We  reached  Nashville  on  the  evening  of  the  28th,  and 
my  business  at  this  time  required  me  to  be  a  good  deal 
among  the  troops  stationed  there.  On  one  occasion  just 
after  the  capture,  I  rode  through  Dover,  a  little  town, 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  141 

and  seeing  a  number  of  soldiers  gathered  in  the  court 
house,  I  went  in.  I  found  a  number  of  men  in  the 
record  room.  A  fire  was  burning  in  the  corner,  into 
which  they  were  busily  piling  the  written  leaves  of  the 
registers  of  deeds  and  wills.  This  I  stopped,  and  then 
looking  a  little  carefully,  I  found  one  man,  sitting  on  a 
pile  of  large  rebel  ammunition  with  a  lighted  pipe  in 
his  mouth,  and  pleasantly  occupied  in  tearing  or  pick 
ing  out  the  cartridge  ends.  I  had  him  and  the  rest  of 
his  friends  out  of  that  dangerous  corner  in  very  short 
time,  and  notified  the  Provost  Marshal  of  that  perilous 
unknown  arsenal.  Soldiers  are  often  more  silly  than 
children.  At  times,  they  seem  absolutely  unable  to  take 
care  of  themselves. 

At  this  time,  I  was  riding  a  dear  little  "secesh"  sorrel 
pony  with  a  dark-brown  tail.  She  was  as  tame  as  could 
be  and  would  follow  me  anywhere.  I  did  not  tie  her 
but  used  to  leave  her  at  the  door  when  I  went  into  a 
hospital,  and  she  would  wait.  On  one  occasion,  I  went 
into  a  house  to  see  a  sick  soldier,  leaving  her  as  usual. 
When  I  came  down,  I  found  her  in  the  entry,  patiently 
waiting  for  me.  To  reach  there,  she  had  ascended  one 
or  two  porch  steps,  had  then  crossed  the  porch  and 
entered  the  open  house  door.  She  was  a  charming  so 
ciable  little  nag,  and  I  parted  from  her  with  regret  when 
the  time  came.  She  had  been  loaned  to  me  by  the 
Quartermaster. 

The  question  of  courage,  personal  courage,  is  a  strange 
one.  At  the  storming  of  Fort  Donelson  was  a  young 
regimental  lieutenant,  who  distinguished  himself  by  his 
lack  of  personal  bravery.  When  his  regiment  ad 
vanced,  he  became  demoralized,  in  fact  to  use  the 
western  phrase  "stampeded."  Instead  of  leading  his 
men  on,  he  dropped  back,  and  lay  down  behind  a  fallen 


142  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

tree.  For  a  while  he  was  safe,  but  while  endeavouring 
to  stalk  still  further  to  the  rear,  he  was  wounded  from 
behind,  a  stray  ball  injuring  his  knee  joint.  He  refused 
all  operation,  and  died  a  few  days  later  from  septic 
poisoning.  He  did  not  appear  to  greatly  fear  death, 
but  although  he  knew  he  was  disgraced  in  the  eyes  of 
his  comrades,  he  still  had  an  idea  that  he  was,  after 
all,  a  martyr.  I  saw  him  not  very  long  before  his 
death,  and  as  I  parted  from  him,  his  last  words  to  me 
were,  "Doctor,  the  tree  of  liberty  is  watered  with  my 
blood."  His  poor  old  father,  quite  a  prominent  officer 
of  a  neighboring  state,  felt  deeply  the  stain  on  his  name. 
He  said  to  me  that  under  the  circumstances  he  would 
rather  his  son  should  die  than  live.  He  was  a  brave 
old  Spartan;  his  great  desire  was  to  enlist  as  a  private 
soldier  in  the  regiment  in  which  his  son  had  been  and 
thus  try  and  obliterate  the  disgrace  of  his  name.  This 
attempt  on  his  part  was  absolutely  forbidden;  but  I  can 
never  forget  the  grim  set  of  the  old  man's  jaw. 

The  interior  of  the  fort  was  a  sorry  sight,  I  mean 
that  portion  near  the  bank  of  the  river;  a  great  amount 
of  crude  pork  had  been  piled  under  the  bluff  by  the 
Confederates  before  we  took  the  place,  and  was  in 
sufficiently  salted.  Salt  in  the  Confederacy  was  scarce 
then,  and  under  the  influence  of  the  rain  and  the  rising 
water,  it  had  been  decomposed  and  formed  a  horrid 
mess;  it  was  good  for  nothing  and  had  become  a  nui 
sance.  The  salt  had  indeed  lost  its  savor.  Yet,  in  the 
end,  it  served  to  make  much  trouble,  and  almost  caused 
the  loss  of  a  commander  to  the  Army  of  the  Tennessee, 
and  possibly  to  the  country,  and  thus.  Busybodies  had 
spread  the  report  that  after  the  capture  of  the  fort, 
General  Grant  had  allowed  the  destruction  of  much  valu 
able  property  (which,  as  Rawlins  once  told  me,  meant 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  143 

"that  pork").  Then,  too,  it  was  asserted  that  his  living 
was  irregular,  that  he  had  disobeyed  orders,  and  in  fact, 
that  he  had  lost  his  head,  and  wandered  up  and  down 
the  river,  in  an  aimless  manner,  thus  permitting  his 
army  to  become  a  mere  mob,  disorganized  and  un 
manageable.  The  truth  was  that  Fort  Donelson  once 
taken,  Grant  saw  with  a  true  soldier's  eye  that  the  next 
moves  on  the  checkerboard  of  war  would  be  the  occu 
pation  of  Clarkesville  and  Nashville,  and  the  penetration 
of  the  southern  land  by  columns  moving  from  Nashville. 
But  his  superiors  at  St.  Louis  and  Washington  thought 
otherwise;  Nashville  was  to  be  taken  by  Buell,  who  was 
heading  thither  at  a  snail's  pace.  Grant  at  this  time, 
having  captured  Fort  Donelson,  was  anxious  to  occupy 
Nashville,  but  his  orders  forbade  him.  It  was  only 
when  Nelson's  division  on  transports  met  Grant  upon 
the  river  above  Fort  Donelson  (having  been  ordered  to 
report  to  him  while  the  siege  of  Fort  Donelson  was  in 
progress),  and  reached  the  fort,  now  ours,  when  their 
services  were  not  needed,  that  the  idea  struck  Grant 
that  he  could  order  Nelson  to  report  to  Buell  at  Nash 
ville,  Buell,  not  having  reached  there,  and  Nashville 
not  having  been  captured  by  Union  troops.  So  Grant 
captured  Nashville  with  Buell's  men,  Buell  himself  be 
ing  an  unwilling  spectator  from  the  opposite,  or  wrong 
side,  of  the  river.  These  facts  were  perfectly  well 
known  upon  Grant's  staff,  and  caused  not  a  little  un 
kind  feeling  on  the  parts  of  Generals  Buell  and  Halleck. 
Buell  was  an  angry  man.  He  had  but  a  poor  opinion 
of  Grant,  and  in  one  of  his  dispatches  either  to  Halleck 
or  McClellan,  he  used  the  expression,  "My  troops  are 
being  filched  from  me."  This  I  have  seen  in  official 
form. 
And  here  I  wish  to  add  a  note  explanatory  of  the 


144  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

circumstances  under  which  I  saw  these  dispatches  for 
a  second  time,  and  at  my  leisure.  At  a  later  period  in 
the  war,  I  was  stationed  at  Washington,  and  detailed 
on  duty  in  the  office  of  the  Surgeon-General  to  prepare 
the  Surgical  History  of  the  War.  Grant  was  at  that 
time  in  the  neighborhood  of  Washington  with  his  head 
quarters  at  the  War  Department.  Wishing  to  refresh 
my  memory  on  the  events  of  the  period  on  which  I  am 
now  writing,  I  asked  and  obtained  permission  through 
Rawlins,  to  look  over  the  old  record  and  dispatch  books 
on  file  in  the  office.  This  permission  was  readily 
granted,  and  as  I  knew  so  many  of  the  old  staff  well, 
I  had  every  opportunity  for  study,  and  was  thus  en 
abled  to  read  what  I  pleased.  Not  a  little  rough  manu 
script  which  I  then  compiled  was  afterwards  printed  in 
the  Medical  and  Surgical  History  of  the  Rebellion. 

I  find  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  DaCosta,  some  opinions  of 
what  was  taking  place  around  me.  My  letter  is  dated : 

"Headquarters,  Fort  Donelson,  March  2,  1862,"  and 
reads  in  part  as  follows : 

"I  have  not  had  time  to  write  you  since  the  battle  with 
its  stupendous  results.  We  took  Nashville,  not  Buell, 
for  it  fell  in  consequence  of  Donelson.  I  am  afraid 
Buell,  who  has  now  125,000  men,  is  too  cautious.  He 
sent  down  yesterday,  or  the  day  before,  for  Smith's 
command  of  2,500  men,  to  Nashville,  when  he  had 
40,000  or  50,000  there.  He  should  push  on,  and  not 
allow  the  enemy  time  to  fortify  at  Murfreesboro.  Grant 
would  do  it.  By  the  way,  our  General  is  a  good  soldier 
and  prompt.  He  means  what  he  says,  and  says  what  he 
means.  He  is  not  afraid  of  responsibility.  On  the  Fri 
day  before  Donelson,  he  told  me,  'Doctor,  if  I  was  a 
little  more  assured  of  my  men,  I  would  storm  with  every 
man  at  twelve  tonight,  but  I  am  not  sure  of  them  in  a 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  145 

night  melee/  The  place  must  fall  to  a  moral  certainty. 
On  Saturday  night,  he  was  certain  of  it,  and  told  us  in 
the  morning  that  we  would  be  in,  and  so  wrote  to  Hal- 
leek.  He  and  I  have  the  biggest  kind  of  military  talks, 
and  it  would  do  you  good  to  hear  me  expressing  my 
views  as  to  the  next  steps.  Grant  told  me  the  other  day, 
'Doctor,  wherever  I  go,  I  want  you  to  come,'  and  he 
would  not  allow  me  to  be  moved  from  his  staff  when 
Dr.  Hewitt  joined.  He  was  on  Smith's  staff,  but  very 
generously  applied  to  be  relieved,  as  he  saw  Grant  wanted 
me.  He  did  not  wish  to  interfere  with  me,  so  now  I 
rank  everybody,  unless  some  old  regular  surgeon  should 
be  sent  here." 

On  March  4th,  General  Grant  and  his  staff  left  Fort 
Donelson  and  rode  over  to  Fort  Henry,  taking  up  our 
quarters  on  a  steamer.  At  this  time  an  expedition  was 
fitted  out  to  ascend  the  Tennessee  River.  It  went  under 
the  command  of  General  C.  F.  Smith.  Grant  remained 
on  the  boat  at  Fort  Henry,  and  I  stayed  with  him.  The 
country  around  the  fort  was  thoroughly  inundated,  and 
as  a  consequence,  the  health  of  the  troops  who  had  en 
camped  there,  had  suffered  greatly,  especially  from  camp 
dysentery  and  fevers. 

On  March  6th,  I  rode  over  to  Fort  Donelson,  to  look 
after  the  sick  and  wounded,  and  this  done,  on  the  fol 
lowing  afternoon  started  by  boat  to  go  round  Fort 
Henry  again.  We  steamed  pleasantly  down  the  river, 
the  night  was  brightly  moonlight,  and  I  was  sitting  on 
the  upper  deck  by  the  side  of  the  big  smoke  pipes  or 
stacks.  Of  a  sudden,  without  warning,  we  were  en 
veloped,  that  is,  I  was,  in  dense  smoke.  We  were  steer 
ing  very  close  to  the  shore,  and  had  run  into  an  im 
mense  sycamore  tree  which  grew  on  the  bank.  Our 
huge  pipes  were  instantly  broken  off  and  lay  prostrate 


146  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

on  the  deck,  volumes  of  thick,  choking  smoke  rolling 
from  their  stumps.  Fortunately,  I  at  that  moment  was 
sitting  close  to  the  ladder,  which  led  to  the  lower  deck, 
and  although  in  utter  darkness,  I  was  able  to  creep  down 
and  find  refuge  below.  By  moderating  the  fires,  the 
dense  smoke  was  in  some  way  eliminated,  and  we  crept 
slowly  along,  reaching  Paducah  the  next  morning.  Here 
I  found  thirty-eight  transports  loaded  with  men,  waiting 
to  ascend  the  Tennessee  River.  In  a  short  note  to  my 
sister,  mailed  from  here,  I  find  that  I  refer  to  a  photo 
graph  sent  her  of  General  Grant,  which  probably  was  the 
first  I  had  of  him.  I  told  her  "I  will  send  you  an  auto 
graph  of  Grant's  to  put  under  the  photograph.  By  the 
way,  his  name  properly  is  U.  Grant;  this,  he  told  me 
himself; — the  cadets  nicknamed  him  U.  S.  Grant, 
(Uncle  Sam).  It  crept  into  the  army  register  as  U.  S. 
Grant,  and  so  he  has  always  written  it  since." 

At  Paducah,  I  found  many  newspaper  reporters  and 
was  surrounded,  and  pumped  for  battle-field  anecdotes. 
My  imagination  was  then  vivid  and  I  gave  it  scope. 
The  same  day  "Nigger"  and  I  went  up  the  river  and  re 
ported  at  headquarters.  "Nigger"  was  my  jet-black 
horse,  so  named  by  my  servant.  I  called  him  "Nig"  for 
short,  and  he  soon  learned  his  name.  On  reaching  the 
old  headquarters,  I  passed  several  very  pleasant  days. 
One  thing  I  particularly  remember.  We  had  a  washer 
woman  on  board,  who  not  only  could  wash,  but  could 
also  darn,  so  I  had  an  opportunity  of  overhauling  an 
important  part  of  my  wardrobe,  and  was  for  the  present 
relieved  from  the  unpleasant  necessity  of  tying  up  my 
stocking  toes  to  get  rid  of  the  holes. 

It  was  at  this  time,  that  a  remarkable  occurrence  took 
place  which  might  have  influenced  not  only  the  after 
career  of  the  General,  but  indeed  possibly  that  of  the 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  147 

nation  also.  I  have  already  referred  to  the  dissatisfac 
tion  felt  by  General  Halleck,  and  by  the  War  Depart 
ment  authorities  at  Washington  with  the  events  which 
followed  the  surrender  of  Fort  Donelson,  and  how  blame 
was  heaped  upon  the  head  of  General  Grant,  a  victorious 
general,  and  so  far,  the  only  successful  general  of  the 
war.  Matters  soon  culminated.  On  March  2nd,  Gen 
eral  Grant  was  ordered  back  to  Fort  Henry,  and  on  the 
4th  was  ordered  to  place  General  C.  F.  Smith  in  com 
mand  of  the  expedition  up  the  Tennessee  River.  On 
the  6th  of  March,  General  Halleck  severely  reprimanded 
Grant  for  neglect  of  duty  after  capture  of  Fort  Donelson. 

On  the  7th,  and  subsequently  on  the  nth,  Grant  asked 
to  be  relieved  from  duty  in  the  Department.  After  the 
7th,  the  day  on  which,  at  Fort  Henry,  he  received  Hal- 
leek's  letter  of  the  6th,  he  was  practically  in  arrest,  and 
so  continued  until  the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  Halleck, 
dated  St.  Louis,  March  I3th,  1862,  refusing  to  relieve 
him  from  duty,  as  he  had  requested,  and  closing  thus: 
"Instead  of  relieving  you,  I  wish  you,  as  soon  as  your 
new  army  is  in  the  field  to  assume  the  immediate  com 
mand  and  lead  it  on  to  new  victories."*  The  communi 
cations  of  Halleck  to  Grant,  I  saw  when  they  were 
received,  and  of  the  virtual  arrest  of  Grant  on  the  7th 
of  March  I  was  cognizant,  Rawlins  having  told  me  of 
it  at  the  time,  and  General  Grant  having  spoken  of  it 
to  his  staff. 

It  would  seem  as  if  these  discourtesies,  and  the  prac 
tical  arrest  of  the  General  were  the  result  of  communi 
cations  passing  between  Halleck  at  St.  Louis  and  Gen 
eral  McClellan  at  Washington,  and  somehow  or  other, 
I  also  formed  the  opinion  at  the  time  that  General 

*  Official  records,  War  of  the  Rebellion,  Series  i,  Vol.  X,  Part  11, 
P.  32. 


148  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Erinton 

Buell's  complaints  had  not  a  little  to  do  in  leading  to 
the  misunderstandings. 

The  treatment  received  by  General  Grant  from  his  su 
perior  officers  at  this  time  cut  him  bitterly.  In  a  letter 
written  by  me  to  Dr.  DaCosta  from  Fort  Henry,  dated 
March  nth,  1862,  I  alluded  thus  to  passing  events: 
"Grant  has  been  demanded  to  be  relieved  from  this  de 
partment.  Halleck  did  not  arrest  Grant,  but  ordered  him 
to  remain  here,  as  bad,  if  not  worse.  Out  here,  we  are 
destitute  of  good  artillery  men,  and  cavalry  officers,  and 
were  it  not  for  the  innate  pluck  of  the  troops  and  officers, 
we  should  be  in  a  bad  way.  I  have  seen  the  telegrams 
and  dispatches  and  was  never  more  surprised  in  my  life, 
than  when  I  read  the  one  putting  the  General  on  the 
shelf.  It  was  infamous,  and  the  blame  rests  with  his 
superior  officers,  and  that  confounded  -  — ,  a  Chief  of 
Staff,  a  Miss  Nancy  of  the  worse  kind.  I  traveled  with 
him,  and  he  is  the  only  man  I  ever  saw  who  watched 
a  checked  piece  of  baggage.  When  this  thing  comes 
out,  defend  Grant.  He  obeyed  his  orders  to  the  letter, 
and  had  he  not  been  stopped,  would  have  been  at  Chatta 
nooga  at  this  time.  His  fault  was  in  being  too  strong 
and  active." 

His  headquarters  at  Fort  Henry  were  on  a  steamer, 
I  think  still  the  "Tigress."  During  this  interval  be 
tween  the  6th  and  I3th  of  March,  1862,  when  he  was 
under  a  cloud,  I  passed  on  one  occasion,  into  the  back 
part  of  the  cabin  deck,  that  part  curtained  off  as  the 
ladies'  saloon,  used  at  the  time  as  the  private  office  of 
headquarters.  My  own  stateroom  was  near  to  Grant's, 
and  opened  into  the  office  of  Generals  Logan,  Ogelsby, 
Cook,  Lawler,  who,  with  others  of  the  staff,  recently 
created  brigadier?,  at  Grant's  recommendation,  were 
there.  Several  of  them  who  had  been  at  the  Battle  of 


Incidents  of  the  Siege  of  Fort  Donelson  149 

Belmont  were  known  as  the  Belmont  Colonels.  They 
had  just  presented  a  sword  of  honor  to  General  Grant, 
and  it  lay  upon  its  open  case  upon  the  table.  The  Gen 
eral  had  received  it  when  presented,  but  unable  to  an 
swer  and  overcome  by  his  emotions,  he  turned  and  went 
back  through  the  cabin  door  on  to  the  open  deck.  I  was 
at  first  ignorant  of  what  had  happened,  but  was  told. 
In  a  little  while  most  of  the  officers,  indeed,  I  think, 
all,  had  left  the  headquarters  office,  and  shortly  after 
wards  I  went  out  on  the  guards,  and  there  stumbled 
across  the  General.  The  tears  were  on  his  face,  un 
mistakably.  He  took  me  by  the  arm,  without  a  word, 
led  me  back  to  the  round  table  on  which  the  sword  lay, 
in  its  open  case,  pushed  it  as  it  were,  toward  me,  say 
ing,  "Doctor,  send  it  to  my  wife,  I  will  never  wear  a 
sword  again."  The  incident  made  a  deep  impression 
on  me  at  the  time,  and  has  never  since  passed  from  my 
mind. 

While  here,  Grant  actively  and  regularly  pushed  for 
ward  the  regulations  for  the  expedition  up  the  river 
under  General  Smith.  Anxious  to  give  me  every  chance, 
he  ordered  me  to  report  to  Sherman,  who  had  a  com 
mand  with  General  C.  F.  Smith  on  this  expedition,  but 
as  I  saw  that  Sherman  did  not  want  me,  but  did  want 
Surgeon  Hewitt,  and  as  there  was  a  difficulty  as  to  my 
rank,  I  ventured  to  suggest  that  I  should  remain  behind 
with  Grant,  and  so  I  was  relieved  of  my  order  to  him, 
and  returned  to  Grant's  headquarters.  When  I  told 
him,  he  took  me  by  both  hands,  saying,  "My  boy,  I 
knew  you  would  not  leave  me;  stay  with  me."  Kind 
as  he  had  always  been,  and  always  was  afterwards  to 
me,  this  was,  I  believe,  the  only  time  at  which  he  was 
familiar  to  me. 

I  might  mention  here  the  manner  and  deportment  of 


150  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Grant  and  Smith.  Smith  had  been  commandant  at 
West  Point  when  Grant  had  been  in  the  academy  as  a 
cadet.  The  latter  in  one  sense  still  looked  up  to  him 
in  the  memory  of  his  old  office;  and  yet  I  could  not  help 
feeling,  and  noticing,  that  there  was  an  unconscious 
deference  on  the  part  of  Smith  to  Grant  as  a  soldier. 
It  was  apart  from  rank;  it  seemed  indescribable;  but 
it  was  there,  it  was  the  recognition  of  the  master.  On 
the  evening  before  the  expedition  sailed,  as  the  two 
walked  up  and  down  the  guards  of  the  boat,  the  last 
walk  they  ever  took  together,  this  relationship  seemed 
to  me  stronger  than  ever. 

The  week  I  spent  on  the  boat  at  this  time,  and  after 
Smith  had  sailed  away,  and  left  our  headquarters  de 
serted  and  lonely  with  the  troops  all  away,  seemed  sad 
enough.  The  General  was  depressed,  Rawlins  was  out 
of  spirits,  and  everyone,  down  to  the  very  orderlies,  was 
feeling  below  par. 


CHAPTER  XI 

UP  THE  TENNESSEE 

About  the  1 3th  or  I4th  of  March,  Grant  was  restored 
to  his  command,  "let  loose"  as  it  were,  to  start  on  that 
career  of  destruction  of  the  Confederacy,  which  ended 
at  Appomattox,  Va.,  April  9,  1865.  Once  in  command 
of  the  new  levies  and  reinforcements  which  were  pour 
ing  up  the  Tennessee,  he  made  arrangement  to  go  up 
with  his  staff  immediately.  The  water  in  the  river  at  this 
time  was  very  high,  fully  fifty  feet  above  the  low  water, 
or  ordinary  level  of  the  river.  The  forts  and  the  fences, 
erected  by  the  enemy  at  various  points,  were,  therefore, 
untenable  in  most  instances.  Our  vessels  and  gunboats 
commanded  them.  Then,  too,  the  width  of  the  river 
had  been  enormously  increased,  and  dry  banks  were  so 
far  removed,  that  the  enemy  could  find  no  vantage 
ground  from  which  to  annoy  our  transports.  The  flood 
of  water  swept  down  with  irresistible  force,  carrying 
away  small  houses,  mills,  sheds,  lumber,  trees  and  every 
thing  which  could  float.  Navigation  for  our  heavily 
laden  boats  was  therefore  somewhat  difficult.  Some 
times,  at  nights,  our  boats  would  be  carried  by  the  waters 
into  the  roads,  stick  there  until  daylight,  and  then  have 
to  be  cut  out  with  axes,  so  that  they  could  find  their 
way  back  into  open  stream.  However,  by  great  care 
and  watchfulness,  all  of  the  transports,  from  eighty  to 
a  hundred  in  number,  were  successfully  conducted  to 
Savannah,  Tennessee,  and  to  Pittsburgh  Landing,  a  few 


152  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

miles  above  on  the  opposite  shore,  soon  to  receive  such 
bloody  notoriety.  Nearly  all  of  the  enemy's  gunboats 
had  been  captured  or  destroyed.  The  one  or  two  which 
had  escaped  and  gone  up  small  creeks,  were  neutralized 
by  our  own  war  vessels. 

About  the  middle  of  March,  our  headquarters  moved 
up  the  Tennessee  River.  We  were  received  with  great 
joy  by  many  of  the  inhabitants,  and  it  seemed  very 
strange  once  more  to  see  the  old  flag  hoisted  on  im 
promptu  flag  poles,  and  to  hear  the  loud  cheers  of  the 
poor,  upon  the  banks.  The  people  had  been  hardly 
treated.  The  men  had  been  dragged  off,  often  marched 
at  the  tail  of  the  cart,  to  the  southern  armies,  and  their 
homes  had  been  ransacked  for  supplies.  Whatever 
might  have  been  the  case  in  other  portions  of  the  South, 
it  was  unquestionably  true  that  a  strong  and  genuine 
Union  feeling  existed  along  the  banks  of  the  river  in 
Hardin  and  McNairy  Counties. 

At  Savannah,  our  boat  rested.  Here  we  found  that 
General  C.  F.  Smith  had  established  his  headquarters 
in  a  small  house,  not  very  far  from  the  landing.  While 
we  lay  at  the  landing,  I  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  on 
shore,  and  saw  something  of  the  inhabitants.  I  remem 
ber  one  family  which  was  'secesh'  to  the  back-bone.  It 
consisted  of  five  daughters  and  two  sons,  the  latter 
away  in  the  rebel  army.  I  soon  became  quite  intimate 
with  the  young  ladies,  and  after  a  while  they  would 
sing  to  me  their  Secession  songs. 

One  was: 

"Wait   for  the  wagon,   the  dissolution  wagon, 
And  we'll  all  take  a  ride." 

Another : 

"To  arms,  to  arms  in  Dixie  land." 


Up  the  Tennessee  153 

Another,  and  this  was  the  most  favorite  one  with 
them: 

"And,  one,  two,  three,  we'll  crush  them!" 

I  remained  here  until  the  22nd  of  March,  1862.  A 
great  amount  of  sickness  existed  at  this  time  among  the 
troops,  malaria,  dysentery,  typhoid;  and  in  fact  all  the 
diseases  partook  more  or  less  of  the  typhoid  type.  I  was 
fighting  all  the  time  to  obtain  proper  food,  medicines, 
and  medical  supplies.  Fresh  meat  was  in  great  demand, 
and  although  I  knew  well  the  commissary  of  subsist 
ence,  Major  Leland,  one  of  the  famous  Leland  brothers, 
hotel  proprietors  of  New  York  City,  it  was  only  by 
positive  threats  of  preferment  of  charges,  that  I  could 
succeed  in  procuring  the  necessary  fresh  food  for  our 
sick.  So  pressing  was  the  demand  for  all  of  these 
necessities,  that  General  Grant  determined  to  send  me 
to  St.  Louis  to  procure  what  I  could  by  personal  inter 
view  and  request  from  General  Halleck.  The  follow 
ing  was  General  Grant's  order  in  his  own  handwriting: 

"Headquarters,  District  of  Tennessee, 

Savanna,  March  22,  1862. 
SPECIAL  ORDER 
No.  32. 

Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton  will  proceed  to  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
without  delay,  and  procure  through  the  Medical  Director 
and  Purveyor  of  the  Department,  the  necessary  medical 
stores  and  supplies  for  the  growing  wants  of  this  District 
and  return. 

By  order, 

U.   S.   GRANT, 

Maj.  Gen.  Comg." 


154  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

In  obedience  to  this  order,  not  a  very  agreeable  one, 
I  started  by  boat  for  St.  Louis,  down  the  Tennessee  and 
Ohio  and  up  the  Mississippi  Rivers.  I  had  a  rather 
strange  meeting  on  the  boat.  As  we  were  nearing  St. 
Louis,  a  long-haired,  shabby,  lank  individual,  looking 
wonderfully  like  a  Southerner  came  up  to  me,  and  said, 
"How  d'ye  do,  Dr.  Brinton?"  I  thanked  him,  and  said, 
"Who  are  you?"  The  answer  was,  "A  spy."  I  started, 
and  asked  him  if  there  was  not  a  certain  risk  in  openly 
avowing  such  a  dangerous  calling.  "Not  at  all,"  he 
said,  "You  won't  betray  me."  I  asked  him  how  he 
knew  me.  He  said,  "Do  you  remember  many  years  ago 
in  company  with  Camac,  Heyward  and  others,  dissect 
ing  a  long  negro  subject  at  the  Jefferson  College?  I 
was  one  of  the  others,"  he  said.  He  asked  me  if  a 
young  man  named  DaCosta  was  not  a  friend  of  mine. 
Then  he  said,  "I  am  from  West  Chester  (or  Chester) 
County;  I  came  out  to  Memphis,  Tenn.,  to  settle,  and 
practice  my  profession.  When  the  war  broke  out  I  was 
getting  along  nicely,  and  had  married.  I  was  called  an 
abolitionist  and  driven  away.  My  poor  wife  was  turned 
out  of  the  town  without  shelter.  Her  baby  was  born 
by  the  roadside.  Mother  and  child  both  died.  Then  I 
swore  vengeance  on  the  Southern  cause.  I  let  my  hair 
grow  and  turned  spy.  I  have  done  them  a  world  of 
harm,  and  will  go  on  doing  it.  I  do  not  care  for  my 
own  life,  if  I  can  only  hurt  the  enemy."  I  asked  him 
where  he  had  been  last.  "With  Pillow's  command," 
said  he.  "I  had  the  clothes  of  a  young  Virginian  of 
ficer,  who  was  killed  in  the  east,  and  I  have  passed  my 
self  off  for  him,  and  have  been  some  days  in  camp 
down  the  river.  But  they  became  suspicious,  and  I 
have  come  up  to  report  to  Halleck."  When  I  saw 
Halleck  afterwards,  I  told  him  of  this  man,  and  I  after- 


Up  the  Tennessee  155 

wards  learned  from  some  headquarters  source  that  his 
story  was  a  true  one. 

On  my  arrival  at  headquarters,  I  reported  to  the 
Medical  Director  and  General  Halleck  on  March  28th. 
The  latter  listened  to  all  I  had  to  say,  and  told  me  he 
would  do  the  best  he  could  for  me.  On  my  way  to 
St.  Louis,  I  had  stopped  at  Cairo,  and  had  obtained 
from  the  Medical  Director,  Surgeon  Simons,  additional 
facts  as  to  the  deficiencies,  and  also  as  to  the  hospital 
resources  of  the  District  of  Cairo.  Returning  from 
St.  Louis,  I  stopped  at  Cairo,  and  was  there  on  the  3ist 
of  March,  detailed  on  a  board  to  examine  into  certain 
alleged  abuses  at  Mound  City  Hospital. 

The  battle  of  Pittsburg  Landing  or  Shiloh  Chapel 
occurred  on  April  6th  and  7th,  1862.  At  that  time,  I 
was  on  board  duty  from  which  I  was  immediately  re 
lieved,  and  ascended  the  river  to  Pittsburg  Landing  to 
report.  On  my  way  up  the  river,  we  passed  one  or  two 
hospital  steamers  coming  down.  They  were  crowded 
with  wounded,  additional  accommodations  having  been 
established  by  the  pitching  of  the  hospital  tents  upon 
their  upper  decks.  On  arriving  at  Pittsburg  Landing, 
I  found  a  busy  scene.  On  Sunday,  the  6th,  the  great 
battle  of  Shiloh,  or  Shiloh  Chapel  had  been  fought,  the 
enemy  having  attacked  our  army  in  their  camp,  and 
driven  them  well  back.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  General 
Buell  with  the  Army  of  Ohio  had  arrived.  The  army 
bivouacked  in  the  rain  during  the  night.  Early  in  the 
morning,  on  Monday  the  7th,  Grant  ordered  a  general 
advance  along  the  whole  line.  The  enemy  fell  back, 
at  first  slowly,  afterwards  rapidly,  and  retreated  to  his 
works  at  Corinth.  His  dead  and  many  of  his  wounded 
were  abandoned.  About  this  time,  Surgeon  Simons, 
U.  S.  A.,  came  up  from  Cairo,  and  for  a  short  time 


156  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

discharged  the  duties  of  Medical  Director  of  General 
Grant's  army  of  the  Tennessee.  Before  long,  on  April 
24th,  he  was  relieved  and  ordered  to  report  for  duty  at 
Cairo.  At  the  same  time,  I  received  the  following  order : 

"Headquarters  Department  of  the  Mississippi, 

Pittsburg  Landing,  Tenn.,  April  24,  1862. 

SPECIAL   FIELD    ORDERS 
No.  26. 

Brigade  Surgeon  Brinton  will  perform  the  duties  of 
Medical  Director  of  General  Grant's  Army  until  Surgeon 
Simon's  return. 

By  order  of  Major  Genl.  Halleck, 
And 

C.  Kemper, 

Asst.  Adj.  Genl." 
Surgeon  Brinton. 

I  acted  as  Medical  Director  for  a  little  time  until  the 
coming  of  old  Dr.  McDougal,  U.  S.  A.,  who  had  arrived 
toward  the  end  of  April,  and  who  acted  as  the  Medical 
Director  of  the  Armies  of  the  Tennessee.  His  office 
was  on  the  headquarters'  boat  at  the  landing.  I  re 
mained  with  Dr.  McDougal  until  the  2nd  of  May,  when 
he  sent  me  to  General  Halleck's  headquarters  in  the  field, 
to  represent  him.  My  title  was  "Medical  Director  in 
the  field";  my  duty  to  report  to  him  and  keep  him  in 
formed.  General  Halleck  came  from  St.  Louis  about 
April  nth  or  I2th,  and  assumed  chief  command  of  the 
Armies  of  the  Tennessee,  of  the  Ohio  (under  Buell), 
and  of  the  Mississippi  (under  Pope).  This  large  joint 
consolidated  army  was  sometimes  spoken  of  as  "The 
Army  of  the  Tennessee,"  or  "The  Armies  of  the  Ten 
nessee." 


Up  the  Tennessee  157 

General  Halleck's  headquarters  were  not  very  far  re 
moved  from  the  "Landing"  on  a  high  bluff.  During 
the  time  I  was  at  the  "Landing,"  I  lived  on  General 
Grant's  headquarters  boat.  At  first,  as  can  be  seen  from 
my  orders,  I  was  with  Medical  Director  Simons,  and 
afterwards  with  Medical  Director  McDougal.  By  each 
one  of  these  I  was  treated  with  the  greatest  kindness. 
During  my  stay  with  these  gentlemen,  I  was  very  busy. 
I  occupied  a  sort  of  inspection  position.  My  duties  were 
to  ride  from  camp  to  camp,  to  visit  the  hospitals,  to 
inform  myself  of  their  wants.  If  anything  was  wrong, 
I  would  look  into  and  report  it  to  my  chief.  I  had  a 
great  deal  to  do  in  the  matter  of  transportation,  and  in 
getting  the  sick  and  wounded  to  the  hospital  boats,  and 
in  seeing  that  they  were  started  in  as  good  condition  as 
possible. 

In  all  this  apparent  turmoil,  many  incidents  of  interest 
occurred.  In  the  pages  on  the  fight  of  Belmont,  Mo., 
I  have  spoken  of  a  Captain  Polk,  of  the  Southern  service. 
He  was  a  nephew  of  Bishop  General  Polk,  who  had  for 
merly  been  educated  at  West  Point,  and  then,  having 
entered  the  Episcopal  Church,  had  later  been  consecrated 
Bishop.  Captain  Polk,  I  met  on  a  flag  of  truce,  sent 
from  Cairo  to  Columbus.  He  and  I  quite  fraternized, 
and  he  asked  me  to  promise  that  in  case  he  should  be 
hit  at  any  time,  and  would  let  me  know,  that  I  would 
come  to  him,  bring  him  in  our  lines,  and  take  care  of 
him.  And  so  it  happened.  About  the  I4th  or  I5th  of 
April,  he  did  send  me  word  that  he  had  been  hit  in  the 
leg,  was  completely  disabled,  and  was  lying  at  a  Con 
federate  hospital,  some  seven  or  eight  miles  away  from 
Shiloh  within  the  southern  lines.  He  asked  me  to  come 
with  an  ambulance,  and  bring  him  into  our  lines,  where 
he  could  be  well  cared  for.  I  placed  the  matter  before 


158  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

General  Grant,  told  him  of  my  former  promise,  and 
asked  his  permission  to  go  with  a  truce  flag  and  bring 
Polk  in.  This  he  declined,  but  finally  consented  that  I 
should  take  an  ambulance,  stretcher,  and  one  or  two 
hospital  attendants,  and  go  absolutely  unarmed,  at  my 
own  risk,  as  it  were,  but  with  the  express  stipulation  that 
if  I  should  bring  in  the  wounded  man,  he  would  be  re 
garded  as  a  prisoner  of  war. 

So  on  the  i6th  of  April  I  went  after  him,  riding  by 
the  side  of  the  empty  ambulance,  without  any  white 
flag.  I  soon  passed  our  picket  lines,  and  entered  into 
the  lonely  neutral  country  beyond.  It  was  very  lonely, 
and  so  quiet,  that  even  the  birds  seemed  to  be  afraid  to 
sing.  After  a  while,  I  caught  sight  of  the  enemy's 
pickets  and  someone  advanced  and  inquired  if  we  were 
the  "Doctor's  party."  On  my  affirmative,  he  said  that 
he  had  been  sent  to  meet  us,  and  to  take  us  to  the  little 
hospital  where  Polk,  I  think  they  called  him  Major,  was. 
I  went  there  and  found  him.  He  was  most  glad  to  see 
us,  welcomed  us  to  the  hospital,  gave  us  an  excellent 
dinner,  with  some  delicious  fresh  butter,  which  had  been 
sent  to  him  by  his  wife.  I  explained  to  him  that  I 
would  take  him  to  our  hospital  boats,  and  do  the  best 
that  I  could  for  him,  but  although  he  would  come  volun 
tarily,  he  still  would  be  a  prisoner.  "All  right,"  he  said, 
and  sticking  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  pulling  out  a 
roll  of  notes,  he  added,  "See  here  are  a  lot  of  Lincoln's 
pictures;  I'll  get  along."  So  as  it  was  time  to  return, 
his  friends  lifted  him  carefully  into  the  ambulance,  put 
in  some  vegetables  and  fresh  butter,  and  I  started  off. 
The  Confederates  passed  us  through  their  pickets,  and 
took  leave  of  us,  with  many  expressions  of  good  will. 
Then  I  took  him  to  the  hospital  boat  under  Dr.  Turner's 
care,  and  here  I  left  him,  with  instructions  that  he 


Up  the  Tennessee  159 

should  be  kept  on  the  boat  for  the  present.  He  remained 
for  a  trip  or  two,  when  finally  the  fact  was  discovered 
by  the  patriotic  citizens  of  Evansville  (or  some  town 
on  the  river),  who,  on  hearing  that  a  wounded  rebel 
major  was  being  accommodated  on  board  a  hospital  boat, 
forcibly  carried  him  to  a  U.  S.  hospital.  I  heard  that 
his  leg  was  afterwards  amputated,  but  that  he  had  re 
covered.  I  have  never  seen  or  heard  of  or  from  him 
since. 

This  ride  afforded  me  an  admirable  chance  of  seeing 
the  extreme  limits  of  a  battle  field,  and  the  track  of  the 
enemy's  retreat.  The  roads  were  all  in  a  bad  condition, 
the  rain  had  been  heavy  after  the  battle,  and  the  artillery 
and  baggage  trains  had  cut  deep  ruts. 

During  my  stay  at  the  "Landing,"  I  was  constantly 
dispatched  on  detached  duty.  On  the  25th  of  April, 
1862,  I  was  sent  by  General  Grant  on  a  tugboat  to 
Savannah,  Tennessee,  twenty  miles  below,  to  see  Gen 
eral  C.  F.  Smith,  who  had  been  very  sick,  and  who  was 
reported  to  be  sinking.  I  found  him  unconscious  and 
moribund,  and  during  the  night  he  died.  He  was  said 
to  have  been  perhaps  the  handsomest  man  in  the  army, 
erect,  six  feet  four  in  stature.  He  was  fond  of  the 
army,  was  universally  esteemed,  and  left  the  reputation 
of  a  good  and  faithful  soldier.  In  the  execution  of 
duty,  he  knew  no  friend,  but  duty  over,  he  was  a  most 
genial  commander. 

My  old  friend  Dr.  Henry  S.  Hewitt,  used  to  tell  the 
following  of  him.  On  one  occasion  late  at  night,  Hewitt 
and  he  were  engaged  in  a  fierce  discussion  on  theological 
points,  and  notably,  on  Purgatory.  The  utility  of  such  a 
state  was  stoutly  challenged  by  the  General.  "Why, 
Doctor,"  he  said,  "do  you  mean  to  say  that  I  shall  ever 
go  to  Purgatory?"  "General,"  was  the  answer,  "the 


160  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

time  will  come  when  you  will  die,  will  go  up  to  Heaven's 
gate,  and  claim  admittance."  'Who  comes?'  St.  Peter 
will  demand.  'I,  Charles  F.  Smith,  Major  General  of 
the  United  States  Army/  'Have  you  passed  a  proper 
stage?'  'No,  I  come  direct,  and  plead  my  mortal  life 
and  claims.'  'General/  will  be  St.  Peter's  answer,  'I 
know  you  well;  I  know  your  life;  you  have  been  a  spot 
less  citizen,  an  obedient  son,  a  kind  and  loving  father, 
an  affectionate  and  tender  husband ;  you  have  been  a 
brave  soldier,  a  true  patriot,  a  gallant  and  distinguished 
general;  but  General,  you,  of  all  others,  should  know 
that  discipline  must  be  preserved,  and  that  you  must 
spend  a  few  days  in  Purgatory/  '  As  this  climax  was 
reached,  the  General  in  surprise  and  admiration  drew 
himself  up  against  the  door  of  the  stateroom,  which 
yielded  to  his  weight,  and  he  stumbled  backwards,  land 
ing  in  his  berth,  muttering  strangely,  "So  discipline  must 
be  preserved,  and  I  must  spend  a  few  days  in  Purgatory ; 
St.  Peter  thinks  so." 

I  remember,  too,  another  amusing  incident  about 
General  Smith  in  which  Sheridan  (of  whom  I  will  have 
more  to  say  in  the  next  chapter),  and  I,  and  some 
amazing  mint  juleps,  all  played  a  part.  It  happened  that 
as  Sheridan  and  I  were  riding  together  one  afternoon, 
he  checked  his  horse  and  began  sniffing.  "I  smell  mint," 
said  he,  "we  must  find  it,"  and  he  did  and  returned  to 
camp  with  a  generous  supply.  That  night,  we,  or  rather 
he,  made  mighty  juleps,  greatly  appreciated  by  those  who 
participated.  Someone  said,  "How  old  Smith  would 
enjoy  one."  Now,  General  C.  F.  Smith  was  asleep  in 
his  tent  at  the  time,  and  it  was  not  well  to  disturb  him, 
but  I  volunteered  and  the  julep  was  made.  I  went  to 
his  tent,  separated  the  hangings,  and  reached  in  my 
arm,  holding  the  tumbler  at  full  length.  Smith  had  been 


Up  the  Tennessee  161 

reading,  and  was  half  asleep,  the  candle  flickering  on 
the  campstool  at  the  head  of  his  cot.  The  noise  roused 
him,  he  raised  himself  on  his  elbows,  anathematized  his 
disturber,  and  then  catching  sight  of  the  glass,  crowned 
with  green,  he  stared  and  stared.  Finally  the  great  truth 
burst  upon  him.  "By  G —  this  is  kind,"  he  said,  and 
sliding  from  beneath  the  coverings,  he  crept  slowly  for 
ward,  grasped  the  glass,  and  muttering,  "Kind  indeed!" 
hurried  back  to  his  bed.  But  he  never  found  out  who 
did  it. 


CHAPTER  XII 

AFTER  SHILOH  WITH  HALLECK 

About  the  2nd  of  May,  1862,  General  Halleck  deter 
mined  to  move  out  in  command  of  the  army,  to  the 
front,  wherever  that  might  be  found,  in  the  direction 
of  Corinth,  the  intersection  of  the  two  great  railroads. 
Dr.  McDougal  being  almost  too  old  to  go  into  the  field, 
and  there  being  much  for  him  to  do  at  Pittsburg  Land 
ing,  he  determined  to  send  me  with  General  Halleck's 
headquarters  as  a  medical  director  in  the  field,  with 
instructions  to  keep  him  informed  of  all  matters  of 
medical  interest  which  might  take  place.  Accordingly 
I  started  to  report  at  headquarters,  and  was  ordered  to 
come  with  them.  On  making  my  few  preparations,  and 
returning,  I  found  that  the  headquarters  had  already 
moved.  The  tents  had  nearly  all  been  struck,  the  ground 
was  littered  with  empty  boxes,  cans  and  bottles.  The 
only  officer  I  could  see  was  a  little  man  with  black  hair, 
and  rather  scant  beard  and  mustache,  who  was  flitting 
about  vigorously  doing  something  or  nothing,  I  could 
scarcely  tell  which.  I  entered  into  conversation  with 
him.  He  said  his  name  was  Sheridan,  Captain  Sheridan, 
and  that  he  was  a  sort  of  headquarters  quartermaster, 
to  look  after  the  staff  comforts.  He  did  not  seem  to 
have  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  his  duties,  rather  regard 
ing  himself  as  a  fifth  wheel.  He  inquired  as  to  my  name, 
rank  and  duties,  and  I  think  remarked  that  my  own 
position  and  duties  were  as  vague  and  shadowy  as  his 

162 


After  Skiloh  With  Halleck  163 

own,  as  neither  of  us  had  distinctive  position  or  abiding 
place  on  the  staff.  "Who  are  you  going  to  mess  with, 
and  how  will  you  live  when  you  get  there?"  he  asked 
me.  "I  am  sure,  I  don't  know,"  I  said.  "Then,  let's 
live  together,"  said  he.  "We'll  join  our  mess  kits.  I'll 
find  the  transportation,  and  we  will  do  the  best  we  can. 
Do  you  think  you  could  get  a  bit  of  ice  from  your  med 
ical  resources?"  he  asked  me.  I  said  yes,  that  we  had 
more  than  we  could  use.  "Good,  get  a  wagon  load,  and 
I'll  find  four  animals  to  pull  it,  so  we'll  start  house 
keeping  with  an  ice  house."  And  so  began  my  acquaint 
ance  with  Sheridan,  Philip  H.  Sheridan,  who  figured 
so  largely  in  the  after  conduct  of  the  war.  And  here 
I  might  say  that  either  on  this  day  or  the  next,  he  broke 
his  wrist  as  he  was  mounting,  his  horse  jumping  for 
ward  when  Sheridan's  left  foot  only  was  in  the  stirrup. 
He  was  jerked  off  and  forward  and  in  falling  fractured 
his  wrist,  I  think  the  left,  an  oblique  fracture  of  the 
radius  just  above  the  wrist  joint.  The  top  of  a  cigar 
box,  a  little  triangular  block,  a  chip  left  by  the  axe,  where 
a  tree  had  been  cut  down,  and  a  bandage  served  to  dress 
it.  It  made  an  excellent  cure.  Sheridan  was  anxious 
that  no  one  should  know  what  the  injury  was,  or  that 
it  had  occurred  while  he  was  mounting  his  horse.  And 
so  no  one  ever  knew  how  Captain  Sheridan  sprained  his 
arm. 

And  so  we  arranged  that  Sheridan  and  I  should  mess 
together.  I  rode  out  after  the  headquarters  with  my 
negro  servant;  the  rain  poured  in  torrents,  and  the  road 
was  in  dreadful  condition.  Just  before  reaching  the 
plateau  at  Monterey,  where  the  headquarters  camp  was 
to  be  pitched,  I  came  to  a  little  frame  building  used  as 
a  small  hospital.  Here  I  found  General  Halleck  and 
his  chief  of  staff,  The  latter  was  evidently  uncom- 


164  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

fortable.  He  was  always  called  "Miss  Nancy,"  and  dis 
liked  any  exposure.  His  ride  in  the  rain,  the  mud  and 
the  general  discomfort  of  all  surroundings  had  been 
too  much  for  him;  he  was  completely  upset,  and  was 
nosing  around  for  creature  comforts,  when  I  found 
him  under  pretence  of  finding  something  for  General 
Halleck.  Confidentially,  he  spoke  to  me  on  the  subject, 
and  I  said  that  I  would  see  what  might  be  the  resources 
of  the  medical  department.  The  doctor  in  charge  of 
the  hospital  was  an  excellent  quick-brained  fellow.  In  a 
few  moments  he  had  a  fine  steak  broiled,  with  plenty 
of  gravy,  potatoes  and  mustard.  This  I  sent  to  the 
famished  Generals,  who  were  good  enough  to  devour 
it  in  silent  majesty,  and  afterwards  expressed  to  me 
their  admiration,  and  wonder  as  to  how  such  a  dish  was 
improvised. 

After  a  while  we  settled  down  in  camp,  and  I  found 
myself  ensconced  in  an  excellent  wall  or  officer's  tent, 
side  by  side  with  Sheridan.  And  strange  as  it  seems 
now,  I  was  the  ranking  officer,  and  so  my  bunk  was 
the  highest  up. 

General  Halleck  treated  me  very  kindly  while  I  was 
on  his  staff.  He  seemed  to  regard  me  as  sort  of  a 
literary  character,  an  opinion  based  upon  the  fact  that 
I  received  every  week,  by  the  headquarters  mail,  my 
number  of  the  London  Punch ,  which  the  General  en 
joyed  as  much  as  I  did,  and  read  regularly.  I  had  for 
years  been  accustomed  to  read  Punch  every  Sunday 
afternoon  at  the  office  of  my  dear  old  friend,  Dr.  Charles 
S.  Boker.  When  I  went  off  to  the  war,  he  thoughtfully 
and  most  kindly  remembered  it,  and  for  a  long  time 
Punch  followed  me  to  the  "Headquarters  in  the  Field," 
and  indeed  until  I  reached  the  east  again. 

General  Halleck's  headquarters  remained  at  Monterey, 


After  SMloh  With.Halleck  165 

an  imaginary  cross-road's  blacksmith  shop,  until  May 
1 5th,  when  they  were  moved  forward  four  or  five  miles 
to  a  point  at  the  Corinth  road,  just  where  it  crosses  the 
Mississippi  line,  and  close  to  Corinth,  Mississippi,  in 
and  around  which  the  enemy  were  said  to  be  strongly 
posted.  General  Grant's  headquarters  were  close  to 
those  of  Halleck's.  Grant,  nominally  second  in  com 
mand,  had  at  this  time  no  real  duties,  and  no  immediate 
command.  His  position  was  an  anomalous  one,  and 
under  which  he  greatly  chafed. 

I  remained  on  General  Halleck's  staff  until  the  twenty- 
fourth  or  twenty-fifth  of  May,  when  I  left  for  Washing 
ton.  During  those  days,  my  life  was  a  very  pleasant  one. 
I  was  in  general  medical  superintendence  of  the  army 
in  the  field  and  it  was  my  duty  to  keep  my  chief, 
Dr.  McDougal,  the  Medical  Director  of  the  Army,  ad 
vised  of  all  that  was  going  on  in  our  department.  Then, 
too,  I  had  to  see  in  a  general  way  to  the  care  of  the 
wounded  and  sick.  For  this  purpose,  I  directed  the 
establishment  of  a  large  field  hospital  at  Monterey  with 
a  capacity  of  from  one  to  two  thousand  beds. 

As  I  have  said,  Sheridan  and  I  messed  together,  and 
saw  a  good  deal  of  each  other.  I  frequently  rode  with 
him,  and  he  was  forever  proposing  that  we  should  take 
a  little  ride  to  see  the  land,  as  he  would  say,  "It  .is 
always  a  good  thing  to  get  the  lay  of  the  country." 
Many  a  little  thing  we  picked  up  in  this  way. 

I  was  very  kindly  treated  on  this  staff,  and  have  a 
pleasant  recollection  of  Col.  Kelton,  the  Adjutant  Gen 
eral,  and  Colonel  Thorn,  the  Engineer.  General  Halleck, 
too,  interested  me  greatly.  I  had  formed,  I  hardly  know 
how,  a  very  high  idea  of  his  military  abilities.  I  thought 
he  was  a  really  great  man.  I  suppose  I  had  been  more 
or  less  influenced  by  his  military  nickname  "Old  Brains." 


166  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

He  had  a  large  head  and  a  thoughtful  expression.  He 
seemed  quick  intellectually,  with  acute  perceptive  facul 
ties.  In  speaking,  he  went  at  once  to  the  heart  of  the 
topic  under  discussion,  and  his  questions  were  direct, 
to  the  point,  and  rapidly  put.  He  wore  a  big  conical 
hat,  and  he  talked  like  an  able  man.  Physically,  he  was 
somewhat  inert;  he  was  fond  of  good  living,  and  of 
good  wine, — notably  of  hock.  After  dining,  he  was 
often  sleepy.  From  my  after  knowledge  of  him,  I  think 
that  at  first  I  overestimated  him.  I  saw  a  good  deal  of 
and  attended  him  in  one  or  two  slight  attacks  of  illness. 

About  the  3rd  of  May,  I  received  an  order  to  report 
at  Washington  for  special  duty,  but  on  the  i6th,  I  was 
released  from  duty  on  this  order,  by  a  counter  order 
bearing  the  private  endorsement  of  Dr.  McDougal  as 
follows:  "The  Medical  Director  tenders  his  congratu 
lations  to  Brigade  Surgeon  Brinton.  Will  be  glad  to 
hear  from  him." 

Imminence  of  battle  was  responsible  for  this  change 
of  detail.  Military  affairs,  however,  dragged  along 
slowly  without  much  change.  Our  lines  were  slowly 
advanced  and  daily  contracted  more  and  more  around 
Corinth,  a  rifle  pit  and  embankment  being  thrown  up  at 
evening  on  each  day's  forward  move.  A  battle,  a  great 
one,  I  mean,  was  daily  expected,  but  which  with  great 
regularity  did  not  take  place.  About  the  22nd  or  23rd 
of  May,  I  heard  from  Washington  that  I  was  expected 
there,  and  on  the  23rd  I  received  a  telegram,  directing 
me  "to  obey  the  order  of  May  3rd,  directing  me  to 
proceed  to  Washington." 

So  I  had  my  wish  at  last  to  get  away  from  the  west, 
and  to  go  east.  I  had  been  dazzled  by  the  idea  of  get 
ting  one  of  the  recently  created  medical  inspectorships, 
and  of  leaving  the  western  armies.  Had  I  only  known 


After  Shiloh  With  Halleck  167 

it,  I  was  best  off  where  I  was.  The  western  life,  the 
western  men,  really  suited  me.  I  was  among  the  men 
who  were  day  by  day  making  the  nation's  history,  and 
who  were  destined  to  become  the  heroes  of  the  war.  In 
part,  I  felt  this,  but  yet  I  did  not  realize  it  sufficiently. 
On  one  occasion,  General  Grant  asked  me  how  I  would 
like  to  leave  the  Medical  Department,  and  become  one  of 
his  aides.  I  suppose  I  ought  to  have  taken  advantage 
of  this  offer,  but  my  professional  love  was  too  strong, 
and  I  lost  the  chance  of  my  life.  Glad  as  I  was  to 
leave,  I  still  felt  a  sort  of  grief  at  parting  with  those 
who  in  eight  months'  intercourse  had  become  very  much 
endeared  to  me,  and  with  some  of  whom  I  had  formed 
a  friendship  which  lasted  for  years. 

I  took  with  me  from  the  army  headquarters,  or  rather 
from  Cairo,  where  I  had  been  collecting  them  during 
my  service  in  the  west,  to  Philadelphia,  a  box  of  frag 
ments  of  shot  and  shell  and  bullets,  intending  to  illus 
trate  any  course  of  lectures  on  military  surgery  which  I 
might  give.  They  passed  by  this  order : 

"Headquarters,  Department  Mississippi, 

Camp  Corinth  Road,  May  24th,   1862. 

Authority  is  hereby  given  to  Brigade  Surgeon  Brinton, 
U.  S.  V.,  to  ship  a  box  containing  shot  and  shell,  etc., 
from  Cairo  to  Philadelphia,  Penna.  The  contents  of  said 
box  have  been  collected  by  authority  and  for  professional 
purposes. 

By  order  of  Major  Genl.  Halleck, 

J.  C.  Kelton,  Asst.  Adjt.  Genl." 

Under  a  like  order  from  headquarters  of  the  Depart 
ment  of  the  Cumberland,  Nashville,  a  further  quantity 
of  shot,  shell  and  projectiles,  broken  and  mutilated 


168  Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H,  Brinton 

weapons,  and  preparations  of  gunshot  wounds  were  sent 
to  Philadelphia,  and  now  form  part  of  my  collection. 

And  so  I  turned  my  back  on  the  old  staff,  rode  back  to 
Pittsburg  Landing,  and  to  the  steamer  "Polar  Star," 
the  boat  on  which  the  Medical  Director  had  his  head 
quarters.  Here  I  remained  a  few  hours  finishing  up  my 
business  affairs,  chief  of  which  was  the  sale  of  my 
big  black  horse.  Strange  to  say,  I  did  not  lose  on  him, 
but  absolutely  realized  his  cost.  He  was  a  fine  animal, 
and  I  had  become  quite  used  to  him,  and  he  to  me. 
So  I  parted  with  poor  old  "Nig,"  and  started  down  the 
river  on  the  boat. 

I  do  not  remember  much  of  my  journey  east,  except 
this,  that  my  travel  led  through  Philadelphia.  How  glad 
I  was  to  see  my  Mother  and  sisters.  Although  I  had 
been  away  from  home  only  nine  months,  yet  it  seemed 
as  many  years.  But  there  I  was  at  last,  thinking  that 
my  service  in  the  west  was  over,  but  in  military  mat 
ters,  one  can  never  foretell  the  future.  I  looked  quite 
a  soldier,  and  traveled  with  sword,  saddle  box,  trunk  and 
valise,  just  as  if  I  were  a  man  of  importance.  I  was 
very  warmly  welcomed  in  Philadelphia;  men  from  the 
western  regions  were  rare  birds  then  in  the  east.  We 
had  been  doing  heavy  fighting,  and  winning  battles,  but 
in  the  east  the  armies  had  not  as  yet  got  fairly  into 
motion. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

SURGICAL    HISTORY   OF   THE   REBELLION 
TO   WASHINGTON.      THE   ARMY    OF   THE   POTOMAC 

In  a  very  few  days,  I  hastened  to  Washington  in 
obedience  to  my  orders  from  the  War  Department,  and 
having  reported  to  the  Surgeon  General,  Dr.  William  A. 
Hammond,  received  from  the  Adjutant  General's  office 
of  the  War  Department,  an  order  to  serve  on  a  board 
for  the  examination  of  candidates  for  the  position  of 
Brigade  Surgeon. 

On  the  4th  of  June,  the  Surgeon  General  handed  me 
also  the  sub-order,  telling  me  that  a  room  would  be 
assigned  me  in  the  Surgeon  General's  office. 

"Surgeon  General's  Office, 

Washington  City,  June  4,  1862. 
Sir:— 

In  accordance  with  special  orders  No.  98,  Adjt  Gen 
eral's  Office  of  May  3,  1862,  directing  you  to  report  to 
the  Surgeon  General  for  special  duty,  you  are  assigned 
to  duty  in  this  office  to  prepare  the  Surgical  History 
of  the  Rebellion. 

I  am  Sir,  very  respectfully,  yr.  obt.  Servt. 

(Sgd)     WM.  A.  HAMMOND, 

Surgeon  General  U.  S.  Army. 

Brig.  Surg.  J.  H.  Brinton, 
U.  S.  Vols. 

Washington,  D.  G" 
169 


170  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

On  reaching  Washington,  I  had  gone  at  once  to 
Willards  Hotel,  then  the  largest  and  best  hotel  in  the 
city.  It  was  crowded  with  officers  and  politicians,  and 
was  a  busy  center.  At  my  first  dinner,  the  cards  of  my 
colleagues  on  the  examining  board,  Drs.  Clymer  and 
Warren  Webster,  were  brought  to  me.  The  former,  a 
Brigade  Surgeon  of  Volunteers,  was  considerably  older 
than  myself,  a  Pennsylvanian  by  birth,  who  had  practiced 
formerly  in  Philadelphia.  He  was  a  contemporary  of 
Goddard,  Gerhard  and  men  of  that  age,  and  had  been 
a  Professor  in  the  Franklin  College,  and  Physician  to 
the  Blockley  Almshouse.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world, 
of  considerable  ability,  and  I  subsequently  came  to  know 
him  quite  well,  and  to  like  him. 

The  appearance  of  Washington  City  contrasted 
strongly  with  that  presented  in  July,  1861,  when  I  saw 
it  last.  Then  all  was  absolute  confusion,  chaos;  now 
a  certain  sort  of  order  or  system  was  being  inaugurated; 
the  military  elements  were  being  brought  into  shape; 
the  departments  were  being  extended  and  developed  in 
accordance  with  the  work  they  had  to  do.  The  Army 
of  the  Potomac,  as  organized  by  McClellan,  had  moved 
down  to  the  peninsula,  and  was  about  entering  on  its 
long  bloody  career.  Government,  the  departments,  gen 
erals,  soldiers,  and  civilians,  were  awakening  to  the 
magnitude  of  the  task;  politicians  were  alive  to  the 
chance  of  the  future,  and  army  contractors  dreamed 
golden  dreams. 

The  Medical  Department  of  the  Army,  which  for  the 
first  few  months  of  the  war  had  shown  almost  im 
becility,  and  which  had  been  conducted  on  the  basis  of 
the  army  establishment  of  the  Mexican  War,  had  under 
gone  a  change.  An  active  man,  Dr.  Wm.  A.  Hammond, 
impulsive,  it  is  true,  but  of  far-reaching  view,  and  san- 


Surgical  History  of  the  Rebellion       171 

guine  temperament,  had  been  raised  to  the  office  of  Sur 
geon-General,  and  had  infused  fresh  life  and  energy 
throughout  the  whole  Department.  Much  has  been  said 
against  him,  heavy  charges  have  been  pressed,  but  from 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  man,  and  his  surroundings, 
I  am  convinced  that  much  injustice  has  been  done,  and 
much  undeserved  obloquy  has  been  cast  upon  him.  He 
was  not  always  wise  or  prudent;  his  ways  of  doing 
things  were  not  always  judicious;  but  he  sought  to 
make  the  Medical  Department  of  our  army  efficient, 
and  to  render  it  capable  of  caring  for  the  sick  and 
wounded,  and  that,  too,  in  no  niggardly  or  tardy  spirit. 

When  he  was  first  appointed  as  Surgeon-General,  I 
was  on  the  Tennessee  River  at  Pittsburg  Landing. 
Shiloh  had  been  fought.  Thousands  of  wounded  and 
sick  were  lying  on  the  ground,  and  unprotected.  Of 
bedding  and  covering  there  was  great  scarcity,  and  trans 
portation  was  insufficient.  The  Medical  Department 
was  at  its  wit's  end,  and  almost  frantic.  On  one  after 
noon,  I  sent  (I  think  by  Dr.  McDougal's  order),  a  piti 
ful  telegram  to  the  new  Surgeon-General,  begging  for 
God's  sake  aid  for  our  wounded.  Early  the  next  morn 
ing  a  telegram  arrived  from  him,  stating  that  on  that 
afternoon  ten  thousand  mattresses  would  start  by  Adams 
Express  to  Shiloh ;  and  they  came  with  wonderful  quick 
ness.  In  a  letter  to  me  at  Pittsburg  Landing,  May  23, 
1862,  while  I  was  in  camp,  near  Corinth,  on  Halleck's 
staff,  Medical  Director  McDougal  wrote  me :  "Ham 
mond  is  sustaining  me  nobly,  for  which  I  am  thankful; 
I  have  not  liked  him  heretofore,  but  I  will  never  say  a 
word  against  him  again." 

Up  to  June,  1862,  the  Brigade  Surgeons,  of  which  I 
was  one,  formed  a  separate  corps.  They  were  created 
by  the  Act  of  Congress,  approved  July  22,  1861.  This 


172  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

was  the  act  calling  for  500,000  volunteers.  By  the  Act 
of  Congress,  approved  July  2,  1862,  it  was  enacted  "That 
from  and  after  the  passage  of  this  Act,  Brigade  Sur 
geons  shall  be  known  and  designated  as  Surgeons  of 
Volunteers,  and  shall  be  attached  to  the  General  Medical 
Staff,  under  the  direction  of  the  Surgeon-General." 

During  my  first  few  days  in  Washington,  I  was  busy 
hunting  up  accommodations.  For  a  week  or  so,  I  re 
mained  at  Willard's  Hotel.  I  soon  became  tired  of  hotel 
life,  however,  and  was  glad  to  find  for  myself  two  rooms 
at  255  G  Street,  a  convenient  neighborhood.  These 
were  on  the  second  floor,  parlor  and  bedroom,  and  were 
very  comfortable.  My  meals  I  continued  to  take  at 
the  hotel.  I  was  now  officially  stationed  in  the  Surgeon- 
General's  office,  and  had  a  nice  little  office  to  myself, 
with  book  shelves  and  pigeon  holes  and  unlimited  official 
stationery,  and  the  services  of  an  orderly.  I  soon  be 
gan  to  grow  into  official  importance  (imaginary,  of 
course),  and  to  assume  all  the  manners  and  pompous 
behavior,*  which  was  considered  the  proper  thing  in 
a  well-fed,  well-paid,  bureau  officer. 

At  this  time,  I  was  busy  arranging  in  my  mind  the 
plan  of  my  future  "Surgical  History  of  the  War."  It 
seemed  to  me  then  that  my  best  course  was  to  preface 
the  professional  matter  with  a  sort  of  semi-historical  or 
semi-military  account  or  history  of  the  military  move 
ments.  I  hoped  thus  to  convey  some  idea  of  the  cir 
cumstances  attending  and  influencing  the  medical  and 
surgical  treatment  of  our  sick  and  wounded,  to  describe 
the  condition  of  the  soldier  during  each  campaign,  his 

*In  reading  the  manuscript  of  this  volume,  Dr.  Mitchell,  the  life 
long  friend  of  the  subject  of  these  memoirs,  interpolated  after  the 
word  "pompous,"  an  old  friend's  kindly  and  illuminating  comment 
in  the  form  of  two  penciled  words,  "Oh  never." — Ed. 


Surgical  History  of  the  Rebellion       173 

physical  surroundings,  his  marchings,  his  state  of  health, 
the  general  character  of  the  action  in  which  he  might 
have  been  wounded,  the  character  of  the  field  hospitals 
and  transportation,  in  fact,  the  hygienic  conditions  of  the 
soldiers,  as  far  as  I  could  ascertain  them,  so  that  future 
readers  might  learn  something  of  the  men  in  health  as 
well  as  in  disease. 

I  did  not  suppose  that  I  ever  could  really  carry  out 
this  idea,  but  my  intention  was  to  do  my  best.  The  re 
ports  of  wounds,  in  the  early  part  of  the  war,  were 
meager  in  the  extreme.  "Vulnus  Sclopeticum  or  Gun 
shot  wound"  was  the  one  great  comprehensive  category 
in  which  all  gunshot  injuries  were  embraced.  No  classi 
fication  was  attempted,  and  in  fact,  little,  if  any,  real 
information  of  a  precise  character  was  furnished.  The 
evils  of  the  system  were  soon  discovered,  and  before  long 
attempts  were  made  to  create  a  better  system  of  reports, 
with  the  returns  of  wounded  and  sick,  to  which  I  shall 
have  occasion  to  refer  frequently  hereafter. 

My  duties  on  the  Medical  Examining  Board,  convened 
at  Washington,  were  somewhat  confusing,  but  not  yet 
onerous.  We  met  daily  at  10  o'clock  in  a  big  room, 
just  where  Pennsylvania  Avenue  turns,  for  the  examina 
tion  of  candidates  for  the  position  of  Surgeon  of  Volun 
teers.  I  was  the  President  of  the  Board,  Dr.  Clymer 
was  the  second  in  rank,  and  Dr.  Warren  Webster  was 
the  recorder  or  secretary.  We  had  a  long  table  covered 
with  papers,  and  one  or  two  fierce-looking  orderlies.  Of 
course,  we  were  all  in  full  uniform.  Our  examination 
was  chiefly  written.  The  candidates  were  furnished 
with  plenty  of  paper,  pens  and  ink,  and  then  passed  the 
time  as  comfortably  as  they  could  until  three  o'clock, 
in  answering  our  questions.  A  great  many  came  be 
fore  us.  Some  were  well  prepared;  some  were  not. 


174  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Quite  a  number  failed  to  pass,  until  finally  we  were 
indirectly  informed  by  the  Secretary  of  War,  the  "dread 
ful  Mr.  Stanton,"  that  he  wanted  more  doctors,  "and 
that  if  we  didn't  pass  more,  our  Board  would  be  broken 
up."  So  under  this  cogent  military  reasoning,  our  stand 
ard  was  lowered,  and  more  surgeons  were  obtained.  I 
think  our  system  of  examination  was  not  altogether  per 
fect,  for  after-observation  convinced  me  that  many  men 
who  passed  high  in  our  examination  did  not  prove  very 
efficient  military  surgeons,  while  some  who  did  not  do  so 
very  well  before  us,  proved  themselves  afterwards  able 
and  satisfactory  officers,  professionally  and  otherwise. 

On  the  3rd  of  July,  1862,  I  received  an  order  from 
the  Surgeon-General,  Dr.  Win.  A.  Hammond,  to 
accompany  him  to  Fortress  Monroe.  The  Army  of  the 
Potomac  under  General  McClellan  had  advanced  against 
Richmond,  and  then,  crossing  the  Chickahominy  River, 
had  fallen  back  to  the  James  River,  and  had  encamped 
"in  safety"  at  what  was  known  as  Harrison's  Landing 
or  Bar.  It  had  reached  this  point,  June  30  and  July  I, 
1862,  and  vigorous  efforts  were  being  made  to  re-estab 
lish  the  organization,  and  to  repair  the  losses  caused  by 
the  Seven  Days'  Battle,  during  which  severe  battles  had 
taken  place  at  Fair  Oaks,  Games'  Mill,  White  Oak 
Swamp,  Charles'  City  Crossroads,  Ellerson's  Mill,  Mal- 
vern  Hill  and  elsewhere.  In  fact,  the  whole  line  of  re 
treat  from  the  Chickahominy  to  the  James  River  had 
been  a  scene  of  struggle  and  bloodshed. 

The  Surgeon-Generals'  party,  Dr.  Hammond,  Dr. 
Meredith,  Dr.  Clymer,  and  some  others,  whom  I  have 
forgotten,  started  from  Washington  for  Baltimore.  We 
were  all  in  an  ambulance,  a  two-horse  dearborn  wagon 
employed  in  the  army  and  much  used  around  the  vari 
ous  military  bureaus  in  Washington.  I  very  well  recol- 


Surgical  History  of  the  Rebellion       175 

lect  the  fun  we  all  had  when  we  picked  up  one  of  our 
party,  Surgeon  Meredith,  U.  S.  V.,  at  the  door  of  a 
fashionable  boarding-house  in  Washington.  The  ambu 
lance  had  just  moved  off,  when  his  young  wife  ap 
peared  on  the  doorsteps,  and  waving  a  silk  umbrella 
over  her  head,  excitedly  shouted,  "My  dear,  my  dear, 
you  have  forgotten  your  umbrella!  Take  it,  take  it,  it 
may  rain  before  you  get  back !"  Poor  lady,  it  was  long 
before  she  heard  the  last  of  it. 

After  reaching  Baltimore,  a  pleasant  sail  down  the 
Chesapeake  Bay  brought  us  to  Fortress  Monroe  in  the 
early  morning,  where  we  landed  and  breakfasted  at  the 
Hygiea  Hotel,  which  seemed  full  of  officers  and  officers' 
wives.  Here  we  spent  some  hours,  and  I  had  an  oppor 
tunity  of  going  inside  the  fort,  and  examining  the  case 
mates. 

Fortress  Monroe,  a  stonework  of  great  size,  was,  I 
believe  the  largest  work  of  defence  in  the  country.  It 
had  a  great  number  of  heavy  guns  in  position,  and  was 
supposed  to  be  almost  impregnable,  if  fully  manned  and 
properly  defended.  Leaving  Monroe,  we  took  boat  and 
sailed  up  the  James  River,  passing  the  scene  of  the  terri 
ble  fight  between  the  rebel  ram  Merrimac  and  the  U.  S. 
fleet  on  the  8th  of  March,  1862. 

As  we  steamed  up  the  James,  the  tops  of  the  masts 
of  the  Cumberland  and  Congress  could  be  seen  above 
the  water.  We  stopped  at  Jamestown,  and  I  had  a 
good  opportunity  to  examine  the  old  church  and  church 
yard.  This  church,  is,  I  believe,  the  oldest  Episcopal 
Church  in  this  country.  It  is,  or  rather  was,  rich  in 
old  tombstones  with  quaint  inscriptions.  These  had 
been  in  remarkably  good  preservation  until  the  advent 
of  our  troops,  when  many  of  them  were  wantonly  de 
faced.  I  often  wondered  why  *he  old  churches  and 


176  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Erinton 

yards  in  England  had  suffered  in  the  Cromwellian  period, 
but  as  I  looked  at  the  sacrilegious  devastation  of  the  old 
Jamestown  grave  stones,  I  felt  that  the  answer  lay 
before  me. 

On  our  way  up,  we  passed  under  Fort  Powhatan,  a 
fort  of  the  enemy,  high  on  the  bluff,  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  river.  This  fort  was  constantly,  or  rather,  at 
intervals,  occupied  by  a  light  battery,  who  made  a  target 
of  our  passing  vessels.  The  steamer  in  front  of  us  was 
fired  at,  and  the  one  behind  us,  but  somehow  or  other 
we  escaped.  I  hardly  like  to  confess  how  unpleasantly, 
or  let  me  say  at  once,  how  cowardly,  I  felt,  as  we  neared 
that  fort.  It  seemed  so  threatening,  so  dominating,  so 
high  above  us,  and  the  embrasures  in  the  bank  seemed 
so  near.  I  was  walking  with  a  few  friends  on  the  deck. 
As  we  approached,  one  or  two  of  them  slipped  down  in 
the  cabin;  one  I  noticed  changed  his  promenade  to  what 
might  be  called  the  "off"  side  of  the  boat.  I  felt  terri 
bly  like  going  below,  but  I  thought  to  myself,  "Here 
I  am  in  full  uniform,  glorious  in  bright  buttons,"  for  I 
was  dressed  as  became  a  Surgeon-General's  companion, 
and  had  on  a  brand  new  coat.  "And  here  are  soldiers 
on  board,  who  can't  go  below,  or  get  out  of  the  way, 
and  they  will  think  me  a  coward,  and  so  I  must  stay." 
So  stay  I  did,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  deck,  and 
tried  to  look  careless  and  indifferent;  but,  oh,  how  I 
did  watch  that  fort  to  detect  grey  coats  or  the  glimmer 
of  steel  and  bronze,  and  how  glad  I  was,  when  we  got 
far,  far  away  from  Powhatan,  out  of  range  and  past 
the  turn  of  the  river. 

Before  long,  we  reached  the  landing  at  "Harrison's 
Landing."  We  disembarked,  and  the  Surgeon-General's 
party  went  up  to  General  McClellan's  headquarters, 
which  were  pitched  in  a  wood,  not  very  far  from  the 


Surgical  History  of  the  Rebellion       177 

river.  Here  we  found  the  Medical  Director  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac.  When  we  first  arrived  at  Harri 
son's,  everything  was  in  a  good  deal  of  confusion.  The 
army,  which  had  arrived  from  the  Chickahominy  in  a 
disordered  and  shattered  condition,  was  being  reorgan 
ized  and  the  troops  were  resting,  and  were  being  gath 
ered  into  their  proper  commands. 

My  own  particular  duties  at  this  time  were  ornamental 
rather  than  useful.  Drs.  Clymer,  Le  Conte,  and  I  were 
attached  to  the  staff  of  the  Surgeon-General,  and  with 
him,  we  went  from  point  to  point,  inspecting  here  and 
there,  and,  in  a  general  way  supported  the  dignity  of 
our  chief.  By  General  McClellan,  I  was  personally 
kindly  received,  on  the  score  of  my  cousinship,  and  my 
present  comforts  were  looked  after  by  Arthur  McClel 
lan,  his  brother,  who  was  an  aide  on  his  staff.  At  our 
first  interview,  the  General  asked  me  a  great  many  ques 
tions  in  regard  to  General  Grant,  his  habits,  his  sur 
roundings,  his  marchings  and  battles.  I  spoke  very 
freely  to  him,  and  told  him  a  great  many  things,  which, 
although  they  were  strictly  true,  he  seemed  scarcely  to 
credit,  especially  the  matters  which  concerned  the  Donel- 
son  and  Shiloh  fights.  He  repeated  his  questions,  but 
I  knew  what  I  was  talking  about,  and  I  stuck  to  my 
statements.  The  tent  next  to  General  McClellan's  was 
assigned  to  me,  during  the  few  days  I  stayed  at  his 
headquarters.  It  was  the  one  occupied  by  his  father- 
in-law,  General  Marcy,  who  was  just  then  away  from 
headquarters.  On  my  first  night's  stay,  General  McClel 
lan's  assistant  adjutant,  General  Seth  Williams,  came 
and  shared  the  tent  with  me.  He  repeated  George's 
questions,  and  asked  a  great  many  more  of  the  same 
character.  He  admitted  that  my  answers  surprised  him 
greatly,  and  I  know  that  I  told  him  much  about  Grant 


178  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

that  he  had  never  heard  before.  I  heard  afterwards 
from  some  one  intimate  with  General  McClellan,  that 
he  hardly  knew  what  to  make  of  my  statements.  I 
remember  that  on  the  next  day,  my  cousin  Arthur 
McClellan  said  to  someone  in  my  hearing  that  the  army 
was  now  safe,  and  I  knew  that  generally  around  head 
quarters,  a  good  deal  of  satisfaction  was  being  expressed 
at  the  changed  state  of  affairs. 

During  these  three  or  four  days,  great  efforts  were 
being  made  to  remove  the  wounded  and  disabled  from 
the  army.  Some  had  previously  been  sent  north  from 
the  Pamunkey  River,  and  those  who  safely  reached 
Harrison's  Landing  were  hastily  sent  northward  by  the 
numerous  and  well-fitted  transports  and  hospital  ships, 
which  were  arriving  daily.  A  great  contrast  existed, 
however,  on  the  vessels  intended  for  the  transportation 
of  the  sick  and  wounded  in  the  west  and  in  the  east, 
and  struck  me  forcibly.  In  the  west,  the  hospital  boats 
were  absolutely  under  the  control  of  the  Medical  De 
partment.  They  were  boats  for  the  sick  and  for  none 
others,  and  were  kept  clean  and  in  proper  condition. 
In  the  east,  on  the  contrary,  they  carried  the  sick  and 
injured  soldiers  from  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  but 
on  their  return  trips,  they  were  laden  with  stores,  men 
or  prisoners,  and  often  when  again  used  for  hospital 
transportation,  were  filthy  and  unsuited  for  the  purpose. 
This  was,  I  believe,  afterwards  remedied,  but  at  this 
time,  the  hospital  transportations  were  defective,  al 
though  from  no  fault  of  the  Medical  Department. 
Things  were  then  in  great  confusion,  and  no  one  knew 
what  to  expect.  A  longer  war  was  felt  to  be  certain, 
and  the  first  confidence  of  the  North  had  been  shaken. 
The  Army  of  the  Potomac  was,  however,  safely  en 
trenched,  and  with  twenty-one  gunboats  in  the  river! 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  SURGEON-GENERAL'S  OFFICE 

On  the  6th  of  July,  I  received  orders  to  return  to 
Washington,  and  arrived  there  on  the  7th,  and  at  once 
resumed  my  regular  office  duties,  collecting  material  for 
the  army  surgical  history,  preparing  new  forms  of  re 
ports  of  sick  and  wounded,  and  attending  to  the  work 
of  the  examining  medical  board,  which  was  in  session 
in  the  latter  part  of  July  of  this  year.  This  board  con 
sisted  of  Surgeon  Lewis  A.  Edward,  U.  S.  A.,  Surgeon 
J.  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  Vols.,  and  Assistant  Surgeon  J.  J. 
Woodward  and  M.  J.  Asch,  U.  S.  Army. 

The  weather  during  this  summer  was  very  warm,  and 
the  Washington  climate  did  not  agree  with  me  very 
well.  I  often  remembered  what  old  Dr.  McDougal  had 
told  me,  "When  you  go  to  Washington,  look  out  for 
your  liver." 

About  July  23rd,  General  Halleck  arrived  from  the 
West,  and  was  appointed  Commander-in-Chief .  He  was 
quite  gracious  to  me,  although  I  did  not  see  very  much 
of  him.  He  lived  on  Georgetown  Heights. 

On  the  first  of  August,  1862,  I  was  directed  by  the 
Surgeon-General  to  arrange  all  specimens  of  morbid 
anatomy,  both  medical  and  surgical,  which  might  have 
accumulated.  These  were  to  constitute  the  Army  Medi 
cal  Museum.  The  foundations  of  this  museum  had  for 
some  time  been  contemplated.  Thus  in  Circular  No. 
2,  it  is  directed  as  follows: 

179 


180  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

"Circular  No.  2. 

Surgeon  General's  Office, 

Washington,  D.  C,  May  21,  1862. 

As  it  is  proposed  to  establish  in  Washington,  an  Army 
Medical  Museum,  medical  officers  are  directed  diligently 
to  collect  and  to  forward  to  the  office  of  the  Surgeon 
General,  all  specimens  of  morbid  anatomy,  surgical  and 
medical,  which  may  be  regarded  as  valuable;  together 
writh  projectiles  and  foreign  bodies  removed,  and  such 
other  matters  as  may  prove  of  interest  in  the  study 
of  military  medicine  or  surgery.  These  objects  should 
be  accompanied  by  short  explanatory  notes.  Each  speci 
men  in  the  collection  will  have  appended  the  name  of 
the  Medical  Officer  by  whom  it  was  prepared. 

WILLIAM     A.   HAMMOND, 

Surgeon  General." 

The  order  to  me  to  arrange  the  Museum  was  as 
follows : 

"Surgeon  General's  Office, 

Washington,  Aug.   I,  1862. 
Sir:— 

You  are  hereby  directed  to  collect  and  properly  arrange 
in  the  "Military  Medical  Museum"  all  specimens  of  mor 
bid  anatomy,  both  medical  and  surgical,  which  may  have 
accumulated  since  the  commencement  of  the  Rebellion 
in  the  various  U.  S.  hospitals,  or  which  may  have  been 
retained  by  any  of  the  Medical  officers  of  the  Army. 
You  will  also  take  efficient  measures  for  the  procuring 
hereafter  of  all  specimens  of  surgical  and  medical  in 
terest  that  shall  be  afforded  in  the  practice  of  the  different 
hospitals.  Should  any  medical  officer  of  the  Army  de 
cline  or  neglect  to  furnish  such  preparations  for  the 


The  Surgeon-General's  Office  181 

Museum,  you  will  report  the  name  of  such  officer  to  this 
office. 

Very  Respty.  Yr.  Obdt.  Servt., 

WILLIAM    A.  HAMMOND, 

Surg.  Genl. 
Dr.  Brinton, 

Surgn.  U.  S.  Vols." 

In  connection  with  this  matter  of  the  Army  Medical 
Museum,  it  may  be  well  for  me  to  state  just  what  I 
had  to  do  with  it.  The  first  idea  of  an  "Army  Medical 
Museum"  originated  with  Surgeon-General  Hammond, 
and  was  by  him  communicated  to  the  officers  of  the 
Army  in  Circular  No.  2,  which  I  have  given.  I  told 
him,  when  I  first  saw  him,  that  I  had  collected  a  good 
many  bone  specimens  in  the  West,  some  of  which  I 
had  lost,  and  some  of  which  I  brought  home  (now  in 
my  collection  of  gunshot  wounds  of  bone).  The  order 
of  August  ist,  to  me,  was  the  first  step  towards  really 
putting  this  notion  of  an  Army  Museum  into  shape,  and 
was  a  most  welcome  duty.  My  whole  heart  was  in  the 
Museum,  and  I  felt  that  if  the  medical  officers  in  the 
field,  and  those  in  charge  of  hospitals,  could  only  be 
fairly  interested,  its  growth  would  be  rapid,  and  the 
future  good  of  such  a  grand  national  cabinet  would  be 
immense.  "By  it  the  results  of  the  surgery  of  this  war 
would  be  preserved  for  all  time,  and  the  education  of 
future  generations  of  military  surgeons  would  be  greatly 
assisted. 

To  help  me  in  my  work,  hospital  steward  Schafhert 
and  his  son  were  assigned  to  duty  with  me.  The  elder 
Schafhert  was  an  admirable  bone  cleaner  and  working 
anatomist.  He  had  for  a  long  time  worked  at  the 


182  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

University  of  Pennsylvania  under  Dr.  Leidy,  and  was 
an  adept  in  preparing  and  mounting  specimens  for  a 
museum.  We  at  once  went  to  work.  I  obtained  for 
him  amputated  arms  and  legs  from  the  Washington 
hospitals,  and  afterwards  from  those  in  the  neighbor 
hood;  these  he  cleaned,  prepared  and  mounted,  and  very 
soon  the  first  specimens,  the  initial  preparations  of  our 
new  museum  were  ready,  and  made  their  official  ap 
pearance  on  the  top  of  my  desk,  and  on  the  shelves 
put  up  for  the  purpose  in  my  rooms  in  the  Surgeon- 
General's  office,  at  first  downstairs,  and  afterwards  in 
the  second-story  room  of  the  office  on  Pennsylvania 
Avenue,  looking  towards  Riggs  Bank.  This  room  I 
afterwards  relinquished  to  Medical  Inspector  General 
Perley,  and  was  moved  with  my  museum  possessions 
into  one  or  two  of  the  small  rooms  of  a  second-story 
back  building,  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  below  the  War 
Department,  where  quarters  were  assigned  to  Dr.  Wood 
ward  and  myself,  then  actually  pushing  on  our  medical 
and  surgical  histories  of  the  war  and  compiling  our 
reports  of  sick  and  wounded,  a  work  demanding  the 
services  of  many  clerks. 

Before  long  Mr.  Corcoran's  art  building,  which  had 
been  fitted  up  by  him  for  a  picture  gallery,  was  seized 
or  occupied  by  the  Government  and  turned  over  to  the 
Medical  Department  for  the  Museum,  and  a  small  ap 
propriation  (of  $5,000  I  think,  and  afterwards  $10,000) 
was  passed  by  Congress  for  the  support  and  extension 
of  the  museum. 

Corcoran's  building  was  turned  over  to  the  Medical 
Department,  June  i,  1867.  The  following  were  the 
orders,  which  may  convey  some  idea  of  the  manner 
of  doing  things  in  those  days: 


The  Surgeon-General's  Office  183 

"SPECIAL  ORDER  NO.    116. 

Headquarters,  Mily.  Dist.  of  Washington, 

Washington,  D.  C,  May  22,  1863. 
(Extract) 

ii.  The  School  House  situated  on  H  Street  North 
between  I3th  and  I4th  Streets,  owned  by  Mr.  Corcoran 
is  hereby  taken  possession  of  by  the  Government  of 
the  United  States,  and  turned  over  to  the  Medical  De 
partment  for  the  use  of  the  Army  Medical  Museum. 

By  command  of 

MAJOR   GENL.   HITCHCOCK, 
JNO.  J.  SHERBORNE, 

Asst.  Adjt.  Gen. 
Surg.  Genl.  Hammond." 

"Surgeon  General's  Office, 

Washington  City,  D.  C., 

June  i,  1863. 
Sir:^ 

The  building  known  as  Corcoran's  School  House  near 
Dr.  Gurley's  Church,  together  with  its  outbuildings 
thereto,  having  been  turned  over  to  this  department  by 
order  of  Secretary  of  War,  you  will  take  charge  thereof, 
and  make  such  alterations  and  repairs  as  may  be  neces 
sary  to  fit  it  for  the  purpose  of  the  army  Medical  Mu 
seum.  You  will,  however,  avoid  all  useless  alterations 
or  expense. 

Very  respy.  Yr.  Obd.  Servt, 

JOSEPH   R.    SMITH, 

Acting  Surg.  Genl. 
Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton, 

Surgeon  General's  Office, 
Washington,  D.  C," 


184  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

"War  Dept.  Washington  City, 

Sept.  i,  1863. 
(Copy) 

Col.  J.  H.  Barnes, 

Medl.  Inspector  Genl., 

Washington,  D.  C. 
Colonel : — 

The  Secretary  of  War  authorizes  the  transfer  of  the 
specimens  from  the  room  of  the  Surgeon  General's  Of 
fice,  to  the  Museum  newly  selected. 
Very  respy.  Yr.  Obd.  Servt. 

(Signed)     JAS.  A.  HARDIE, 

Asst.  Adjt.  Genl. 
A  true  copy  to 

Joseph  K.  Barnes, 

Medl.  Inspector  Genl." 

From  the  above  it  will  be  seen  that  the  museum  spe 
cimens  remained  at  the  office  of  the  Surgeon  General 
under  my  immediate  care  (except  medical  specimens 
proper,  under  Assistant  General  Woodward's  care), 
from  the  inception  of  the  museum.  I  removed  them 
to  the  Corcoran  building,  and  was  responsible  for  them 
and  for  the  growth  of  the  Museum  during  my  stay  in 
Washington. 

Schafhert  and  his  son  who  prepared  the  specimens 
were  borne  on  the  Surgeon  General's  roster  of  employ 
ees  as  hospital  stewards,  while  soldiers,  and  men  from 
the  invalid  corps,  were  detached  as  servants  and  addi 
tional  helpers  and  orderlies.  In  the  meantime,  with  the 
funds  appropriated,  I  was  enabled  under  the  instructions 
of  the  Surgeon-General  to  fit  up  good  cases  for  the 
rapidly  growing  collection.  The  doors  locked  with 
bronze  hands,  which  slid  bolts  at  top  and  bottom, 


The  Surgeon-General's  Office  185 

modeled  after  the  hands  in  the  cases  of  my  home  office, 
originally  belonging  to  Mr.  George  H.  Boker,  and 
bought  by  me  from  Dr.  Chas.  S.  Boker,  long  after 
the  war.  These  cases  were  gradually  extended,  until, 
before  I  left  Washington  in  October,  1864,  galleries 
had  been  erected,  and  the  room  or  hall  completely  filled. 
The  Museum,  after  Mr.  Lincoln's  assassination,  was 
moved  to  Ford's  Theater,  and  not  long  ago,  I  saw  my 
old  cases,  altered,  yet  the  same,  still  standing  in  the 
Army  Museum,  containing  so  many  of  the  specimens 
once  so  familiar. 

One  of  the  first  additions  to  the  Museum,  was  an 
"Assistant  Curator,"  I  being  then  also  officially  curator, 
who  should  superintend  the  work  on  the  specimens, 
and  the  recording  of  their  histories,  which  was  dili 
gently  done  by  clerks  appointed  from  the  Surgeon-Gen 
eral's  office.  Dr.  Wm.  Moss,  who  had  entered  the 
corps  of  Surgeon  of  Volunteers,  was  the  first  assistant 
curator,  and  on  his  resignation  from  the  army,  after  his 
marriage,  he  was  succeeded  by  my  old  student,  Dr. 
Brinton  Stone,  who  had  become  an  Assistant  Surgeon. 
Thus  the  Museum  was  cared  for. 

Any  account  of  the  Museum  would  be  incomplete 
without  some  description  of  how  the  specimens  were 
obtained,  and  gathered  up,  and  by  what  system  they 
passed  from  their  original  possessors  to  the  Museum. 
First  of  all,  the  man  had  to  be  shot,  or  injured,  to  be 
taken  to  the  hospital  for  examination,  and  in  a  case 
for  operation,  to  be  operated  upon.  If  all  this  were 
taking  place  in  a  city  hospital,  or  a  permanent  general 
hospital,  the  bones  of  a  part  removed  would  usually  be 
partially  cleaned,  and  then  with  a  wooden  tag  and  carved 
number  attached,  would  be  packed  away  in  a  keg,  con 
taining  alcohol,  whiskey,  or  sometimes  salt  and  water. 


186  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Then,  when  a  sufficient  number  of  specimens  had 
accumulated,  the  keg  would  be  sent  to  Washington  and 
turned  over  to  the  Army  Museum,  where  the  prepara 
tions  of  the  specimens  would  be  finished,  so  that  they 
could  take  their  place  upon  the  shelves.  The  memo 
randa  or  histories  of  these  specimens  would  in  the  mean 
time  have  been  forwarded  to  the  Surgeon-General's 
Office,  and  after  having  been  fitted  to  objects  and  their 
truthfulness  assured,  would  be  entered  in  the  books  of 
Histories  of  Specimens,  preserved  in  the  Museum,  and 
under  the  care  of  the  Assistant  Curator. 

One  of  the  chief  difficulties  at  this  time,  was  that  of 
procuring  truthful  and  full  histories  of  the  specimens. 
When  these  were  derived  from  hospitals,  where  the 
patient  had  been  under  observation,  it  was  possible  to 
obtain  a  history  of  the  case,  especially  where  the  medi 
cal  officer  in  charge  of  the  hospital  or  bed  felt  a  true 
professional  interest  in  furnishing  reliable  data,  and  in 
contributing  what  he  could  to  the  common  stock  of 
surgical  knowledge.  It  was  one  of  my  main  objects 
in  visiting  the  various  hospitals,  and  generally  the  mili 
tary  medical  centers,  to  develop  as  far  as  I  could  this 
interest  in  the  Museum,  to  make  its  objects  and  ten 
dencies  known,  and  to  lead  all  medical  men,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest,  to  know  and  be  convinced  that 
the  formation,  and  foundation,  of  a  great  National  Sur 
gical  and  Medical  Museum,  was  not  for  the  collection 
of  curiosities,  but  for  the  accumulation  of  objects  and 
data  of  lasting  scientific  interest,  which  might  in  the 
future  serve  to  instruct  generations  of  students,  and 
thus  in  time  be  productive  of  real  use. 

Many  of  our  Army  Surgeons  entered  into  the  scheme 
of  the  Museum  with  great  zeal  and  earnestness,  but 
some  few  there  were,  and  these  mostly  the  least  edu- 


The  Surgeon-General's  Office  187 

cated,  who  failed  to  see  its  importance.  But  in  the 
course  of  time  a  belief  in  the  importance  and  value  of 
the  growing  Museum  spread  throughout  the  army,  and 
an  active  and  faithful  co-operation  was  elicited  from  the 
medical  staff  generally.  The  publication  of  the  first 
catalogue  in  January  exerted  a  good  effect,  and  the 
opening  of  the  Museum  to  the  public,  and  especially  to 
medical  visitors,  was  not  without  its  influence. 

In  the  case  of  field  hospitals,  after  great  battles,  it 
was  at  first  difficult  to  get  our  system  to  work.  The 
number  of  operations  was  so  great,  the  medical  force 
(I  mean  the  intelligent  skilled  force),  was  compara 
tively  so  weak,  and  overworked,  that  it  seemed  at  first 
almost  impossible  to  obtain  from  them  the  preparations 
we  desired.  It  was  hard  enough  to  be  worked  day  and 
night  in  those  great  surgical  emergencies,  accompanying 
fierce  and  protracted  battles,  and  it  really  seemed  un 
just  to  expect  the  rough  preparation,  necessary  to  pre 
serve  for  the  Museum,  the  mutilated  limbs.  These  were 
usually  buried  in  heaps.  To  overcome  all  these  diffi 
culties  and  to  set  an  example,  I  visited  frequently  our 
battle-fields,  as  soon  as  the  information  was  telegraphed 
to  Washington.  I  then  saw  not  only  a  great  deal  of 
active  surgery,  but  I  had  the  opportunity  of  showing 
practically  to  the  operating  surgeons,  and  to  their  assist 
ant  staffs,  what  it  was  that  we  really  wanted,  and  how 
their  part  could  be  accomplished  with  the  least  amount 
of  labor,  and  in  the  most  satisfactory  manner.  Many 
and  many  a  putrid  heap  have  I  had  dug  out  of  trenches 
where  they  had  been  buried,  in  the  supposition  of  an 
everlasting  rest,  and  ghoul-like  work  have  I  done,  amid 
surrounding  gatherings  of  wondering  surgeons,  and 
scarcely  less  wondering  doctors.  But  all  saw  that  I 
was  in  earnest  and  my  example  was  infectious.  By 


188  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

going  thus  from  corps  hospital  to  corps  hospital,  a  real 
interest  was  excited  as  to  the  Museum  work,  and  an 
active  co-operation  was  eventually  established. 

Early  in  January,  1863,  I  published  under  Dr.  Ham 
mond's  order,  a  small  catalogue  of  the  Army  Museum 
up  to  that  time,  showing  a  collection  of  1,349  objects, 
of  which  988  were  surgical,  106  medical  and  133  ex 
tracted  projectiles.  This  catalogue  was  as  accurate  as 
I  could  then  make  it.  Its  real  object  was  to  give  credit 
to  all  medical  officers  contributing  to  the  Museum.  In 
fact,  it  did  a  great  deal  more;  large  numbers  of  prep 
arations  had  accumulated  in  the  Museum,  the  donors 
of  which  were  not  known.  Very  many  specimens  I 
had  brought  there  from  the  battle-fields,  collected  by 
myself.  These  I  put  into  the  first  catalogue,  assigning 
them  to  such  medical  officers,  as  I  could  call  to  mind, 
and  especially  to  those  whom  I  knew  to  be  lukewarm 
in  Museum  interests.  The  effect  of  the  procedure  was 
good. 

Once  established,  the  Museum  was  rapidly  enlarged 
and  extended.  A  section  of  models  was  established,  of 
ambulances  and  litter,  of  horse  and  mule  transporta 
tion  of  wounded,  or  transportation  by  railway  and  by 
boat,  of  hospital  wagons  and  tents  for  the  field,  of 
tent  hospitals,  great  and  small,  and  of  large  general 
hospitals.  All  these  were  shown  as  found  in  different 
sections  of  the  country,  in  the  West  and  East,  in  the 
front,  and  in  the  rear  of  active  operations. 

The  machinery  to  carry  on  the  Museum  was  very 
simple.  A  full  photographic  outfit  and  the  employment 
of  a  corps  of  artists  was  also  ordered  about  this  time, 
and  did  notable  service  in  illustrating  the  museum  spe 
cimens.  Artists  were  obtained  by  enlistment  as  hos 
pital  stewards,  and  were  assigned  to  duty  in  the  Surgeon- 


The  Surgeon-General's  Office  189 

General's  office  at  the  best  pay  a  headquarters'  detail 
could  give.  I  had  at  this  time  a  topographical  artist 
to  draw  the  maps  for  the  history  of  the  war,  one  or 
two  water  colorists,  who  would  also  paint  in  oil  rapidly 
if  required,  and  the  bone-preparers,  the  Schafherts, 
father  and  son.  At  a  later  period,  just  before  I  left 
the  Surgeon-General's  office,  the  services  of  one  or  two 
photographers  were  obtained,  and  a  studio  and  work 
room  was  established  at  the  Army  Museum  building. 

At  this  time  the  drafts  ordered  by  the  President  had 
the  effect  of  causing  high  local  bounties  to  be  ordered 
by  the  various  counties  and  towns,  throughout  the 
"loyal"  North.  Thus  a  good  artist  could  escape  the 
hardships  of  a  draft,  pocket  a  large  bounty,  and  insure 
a  safe  duty  at  high  pay,  by  securing  a  place  as  "con 
structive"  hospital  -  steward  in  the  Surgeon-General's 
office.  To  secure  such  talent,  I  was  sent  by  the  Sur 
geon-General  to  Philadelphia  and  New  York,  and  by 
hunting  around,  I  was  so  fortunate  as  to  secure  the  men 
I  wanted,  after  some  little  trial,  and  change.  They 
were  nearly  all  Germans,  and  although  somewhat  diffi 
cult  to  manage,  and  perhaps  a  little  obstinate,  dis 
charged  their  duty  faithfully. 

As  soon  as  the  Museum  was  fairly  established  in  its 
home,  it  began  to  attract  attention.  The  public  came 
to  see  the  bones,  attracted  by  a  new  sensation.  Then, 
too,  it  often  happened  that  officers  and  soldiers  who 
had  lost  a  limb  by  amputation  would  come  to  look  up 
its  resting  place,  in  some  sense  its  last  resting  place.  I 
remember  once  seeing  a  florid-looking  officer,  a  Colonel, 
I  think,  with  a  slight  limp,  busily  hunting  up  a  leg 
bone  with  a  certain  number,  in  the  glass  case.  He 
evidently  found  what  he  wanted,  and  suddenly  turning 
to  a  buxom-looking  young  woman  at  the  other  end  of 


190  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  room,  he  called  to  her  in  great  glee,  "Come  here, 

Julia,  come  here, — here  it  is,  my  leg,  No. ,  and 

nicely  fixed  up,  too/'  And  the  daughter  examined  the 
specimen  with  much  interest  and  apparent  satisfaction. 
It  was  indeed,  a  nice,  white  shiny,  varnishy  prepara 
tion.  I  thought  at  the  time  that  it  would  be  very  doubt 
ful  if  the  gentleman's  remaining  bones  would  ever  make 
so  creditable  an  appearance. 

On  another  occasion,  a  soldier,  a  private,  came,  ex 
amined  the  Museum,  and  with  the  help  of  the  Assistant 
Curator,  found  his  amputated  limb.  It  seemed  to  him 
his  own  property  and  he  demanded  it  noisily  and  per 
tinaciously.  He  was  deaf  to  reason,  and  was  only 
silenced  by  the  question  of  the  Curator,  "For  how  long 
did  you  enlist,  for  three  years  of  the  war?"  The  an 
swer  was,  "For  the  war."  "The  United  States  Gov 
ernment  is  entitled  to  all  of  you,  until  the  expiration  of 
the  specified  time.  I  dare  not  give  a  part  of  you  up 
before.  Come,  then,  and  you  can  have  the  rest  of  you, 
but  not  before."  He  went  away  silently,  wiser,  but  not 
convinced. 

So  you  see  that  even  dry  bones  may  be  regarded  from 
different  points  of  view.  Remember  Mr.  Dickens's  im 
mortal  friends  "Mr.  Wegg,"  and  "Mr.  Venus." 

I  can  recall  many  other  strange  scenes  which  occurred 
in  the  course  of  my  search  for  specimens.  In  one  case, 
I  was  informed  of  a  remarkable  injury  of  a  lower 
extremity.  The  man  had  died  with  the  limb  on  and 
had  been  carefully  buried  by  his  comrades.  For  some 
reason  or  other,  that  specimen  was  worth  having,  but 
his  comrades  had  announced  their  determination  to  pre 
vent  the  doctors  from  having  it.  However,  I  thought 
I  would  try  what  I  could  do,  so  I  visited  his  mess  mates, 
explained  my  object,  dwelt  upon  the  glory  of  a  patriot 


The  Surgeon-General's  Office  191 

having  part  of  his  body  at  least  under  the  special  guard 
of  his  country,  spoke  of  the  desire  of  the  Surgeon- 
General  to  have  that  bone,  with  all  such  similar  argu 
ments  I  could  adduce.  My  arguments  were  conclusive; 
the  comrades  of  the  dead  soldier  solemnly  decided  that 
I  should  have  that  bone  for  the  good  of  the  country, 
and  in  a  body  they  marched  out  and  dug  up  the  body. 
I  gravely  extracted  the  bone  and  carried  it  off  carefully ; 
the  spokesman  of  the  party  remarking  gravely  "that 
John  would  have  given  it  to  me  himself,  had  he  been 
able  to  express  his  opinion." 

The  preservation  of  these  articles  coming  from  so 
many  sources,  demanded  a  large  supply  of  alcohol. 
Upon  official  application,  it  was  ordered  by  the  Secre 
tary  of  War  that  all  liquor  confiscated  by  the  Provost 
Marshal  in  the  District  of  Columbia  should  be  turned 
over  to  the  Museum  for  anatomical  purposes.  As  a 
result  of  this  order,  an  enormous  amount  of  alcoholic 
beverages  was  poured  into  the  Museum,  everything 
from  champagne  to  the  commonest  rum.  Our  side  lot 
was  piled  with  kegs,  bottles,  demijohns  and  cases,  to 
say  nothing  of  an  infinite  variety  of  tins,  made  so  as 
to  fit  unperceived  on  the  body,  and  thus  permit  the 
wearer  to  smuggle  liquor  into  camp.  Of  all  this  sup 
ply,  Shafhert  took  charge.  When  the  whiskey  was 
strong  enough  for  preservative  purposes,  he  kept  it  in 
package;  when  it  was  not,  it  went  into  the  still  This, 
under  Schafhert's  watchful  care,  ran  incessantly,  and 
furnished  the  Museum  with  a  large  amount  of  very  fair 
alcohol,  not  only  for  putting  up  our  specimens,  but  for 
furnishing  the  various  depots  in  the  Army  where  fresh 
specimens  were  being  collected,  so  that  they  could  be 
kept  from  decomposition,  and  reach  the  Museum  in 
good  condition.  Our  still  was  a  success,  occasionally 


192  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

it  blew  up,  but  never  did  any  active  harm.  It  was  also 
used  for  the  redistillation  of  sulphuric  ether  for  clean 
ing  bones,  but  this  was  a  somewhat  risky  process. 

It  was  not  very  long  before  this  transit  of  whiskey 
and  alcoholic  liquors  was  detected  by  the  railroad  men 
and  military  guards  stationed  on  the  railroad  over  which 
my  kegs  and  barrels  passed.  I  soon  found  that  the 
barrels  leaked,  and  much  less  whiskey  reached  the  col 
lectors  in  the  army  than  was  sent  from  the  Museum  in 
Washington.  A  process  of  tapping  had  been  practised, 
and  a  careful  investigation  showed  that  the  packages 
had  been  bored  into,  the  contents  sampled,  and  the  holes 
plugged.  This  had  evidently  been  repeated  over  and 
over  again  on  a  single  trip,  so  I  determined  to  take  the 
matter  in  hand.  A  tempting  and  attractive  barrel  was 
selected,  and  filled  with  a  fair  article  of  whiskey.  Into 
this  I  placed  some  tartar  emetic  and  the  keg  started  on 
its  travels  from  Acquia  Creek  Station.  Shortly  after 
wards  I  had  occasion  to  pass  over  the  road  when  I 
found  from  the  various  officers  that  a  day  or  two  pre 
viously  a  good  many  of  the  employees  of  the  railroad 
had  suffered  from  some  stomach  disturbance,  nausea  and 
vomiting.  They  said  it  was  the  water,  of  course.  I 
had  not  put  in  too  much  tartar  and  emetic,  just  enough 
to  act.  After  this,  the  barrels  of  the  Army  Museum 
were  religiously  respected,  and  ceased  to  leak.  Years 
and  years  ago,  but  some  time  after  this  incident,  I 
was  making  a  small  purchase  from  a  sedate  and  re 
spectable  dealer  in  my  own  city.  On  hearing  my  name, 
he  showed  unusual  interest  in  his  new  customer,  in 
quired  if  I  had  served  in  the  old  war,  if  I  had  ever 
been  stationed  at  Washington.  Had  I  ever  marched 
over  the  Acquia  Creek  railroad?  Had  I  ever  had  any 
thing  to  do  with  the  Army  Museum?  Had  I  ever  sent 


The  Surgeon-General's  Office  193 

whiskey  barrels  over  the  road?  And  then  he  asked 
gently  if  any  leakage  had  occurred?  Was  there  ever 
any  complaint?  And  then  he  admitted  that  he  had 
heard  that  by  a  gimlet  and  pipe  stem,  a  successful 
tapping  of  those  barrels  had  been  made.  He  seemed 
rather  to  admire  the  ingenuity  shown.  He  admitted 
that  on  one  or  two  occasions  the  whiskey  was  pro 
nounced  very  bad. 

Among  our  various  lots  of  complicated  liquor,  occa 
sionally  we  would  get  some  very  fine  samples.  I  re 
member  a  lot  of  cherry  brandy  that  I  set  aside  for  a 
special  purpose.  I  was  often  sent  at  short  notice  to 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  with  orders  to  reach  certain 
points  or  headquarters  far  remote  from  the  railroad 
terminus.  It  was  difficult  to  procure  a  horse  at  these 
times,  often  impossible,  and  I  was  at  the  mercy  of  the 
quartermaster,  who  was  not  always  obliging  to  a  strange 
medical  officer.  Now  the  5th  Regular  Cavalry  was 
serving  in  this  army.  It  was  a  most  gallant  and  favorite 
command,  and  was  usually  near  headquarters,  which, 
most  often,  was  my  objective  point.  Somehow  or  other 
an  understanding  arose  between  their  officers  and  my 
self  that  on  my  request  at  any  time  a  trooper  would 
be  sent  down  to  me  as  a  guide,  with  a  horse  for  myself 
to  use  during  my  stay,  also  an  extra  horse  for  luggage, 
which  was  understood  to  be  a  small  keg  of  cherry- 
brandy.  This  tacit  understanding  soon  became  a  fixed 
arrangement;  it  did  me  great  good,  and  I  trust  did 
them  no  harm,  and  I  am  sure  greatly  facilitated  public 
business. 

During  my  stay  in  Washington,  the  Museum  was 
greatly  on  my  mind,  and  I  did  all  I  could  to  assist  its 
growth  and  to  unite  the  co-operation  of  all  the  medical 
officers  I  could  reach.  At  first,  it  was  looked  upon 


194  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

somewhat  doubtfully;  many  regarded  it  as  a  joke  al 
most,  but  as  time  went  on,  it  obtained  a  fine  hold  on 
the  medical,  official  and  congressional  mind,  and  ap 
propriations  were  annually  made  to  it  by  Congress. 
The  scope  of  the  Museum,  too,  was  enlarged.  It  was 
made  to  include  models  of  nearly  everything  connected 
with  military  medicine, — thus,  models  of  ambulances, 
litters,  hospital  cars,  hospital  knapsacks,  medicine  chests, 
operating-tables,  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  field  hos 
pitals  were  obtained,  as  also  full  sets  of  bayonets, 
swords,  projectiles  of  all  kinds,  field  ammunition,  and 
small  arm  projectiles,  of  which  not  less  than  eighty 
varieties  were  used  during  the  war.  These,  when  ar 
ranged,  were  not  only  ornamental  to  the  hall  of  the 
Museum,  but  were  calculated  to  be  of  great  use  in  the 
study  of  gunshot  and  other  wounds. 

This  Museum,  which  as  I  have  stated,  originated  in 
the  brain  of  Surgeon-General  Hammond,  became  a  suc 
cess,  and  led  up  to  much  which  was  scarcely  anticipated 
at  its  inception,  such  as  a  photographic  gallery,  and  a 
bureau  of  art,  in  which  colorists  were  employed  for 
the  reproduction  of  the  various  volumes  of  medicine 
and  surgery,  which  afterwards  for  so  many  years  were 
constantly  issuing  from  the  office  of  the  Surgeon-Gen 
eral.  At  the  formation  of  the  Museum,  the  work  was 
entirely  in  my  hands,  but  as  specimens  of  a  medical 
sort  began  to  arrive,  that  division  of  the  undertaking 
fell  to  Assistant  Surgeon  J.  J.  Woodward,  U.  S.  A.,  a 
man  of  acquirements,  energy  and  quickness.  He  was, 
moreover,  an  excellent  artist  and  microscopist.  The  re 
mainder  of  the  work,  that  which  pertained  to  the  sur 
gery  of  the  war  was  in  my  department. 


CHAPTER  XV 

FORTUNES    OF    WAR 

The  greater  part  of  August,  1862,  was  spent  by  me 
in  museum  work,  getting  ready  fixtures,  etc.,  and  on 
the  23rd  I  went  to  Philadelphia  in  discharge  of  these 
duties. 

On  the  26th  of  August,  I  received  the  following, 
sending  me  to  Alexandria: 

"Surgeon  General's  Office, 

Washington,  August  26th,  1862. 
Sir:— 

The  Surgeon  General  directs  that  you  report  without 
delay  to  Surgeon  J.  Campbell,  U.  S.  A.  Medical  Director, 
Military  District  of  Washington,  for  duty  in  Alexandria, 
Va. 

The  duties  to  which  you  are  especially  assigned  are 
those  of  Medical  Director  of  Transportation,  to  inspect 
the  means  of  transportation  for  sick  and  wounded  sol 
diers,  and  supervise  the  arrangements  made  for  their 
transportation  to  and  from  Alexandria  and  to  and  from 
the  hospitals  in  that  place.  You  will  act  as  efficiently 
as  may  be  in  your  power  in  conjunction  with  Surgeon 
Summers,  U.  S.  A.,  to  carry  out  the  orders,  which  he 
has  already  received  for  the  expansion  of  hospital  ac 
commodations  in  Alexandria.  In  performing  your  duties 
as  Medical  Director  of  Transportation,  you  will  put  your 
self  in  communication  with  Medical  Inspector  General 
Parley,  now  with  the  Army  of  Virginia,  and  also  with 

195 


196  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  necessary  officers  of  the  Quartermaster's  Depart 
ment. 

Very  respectfully  Yr.  Obdt.  Servt. 

By  order  of  the  Surgeon  General, 

JOS.  R.  SMITH, 
Surgeon,  U.  S.  A. 

Dr.  J.  H.  Brinton,  Surg.  of  Vols." 

It  was  just  at  this  time  that  the  series  of  battles 
were  being  fought  between  the  army  under  General 
Pope  and  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  under  Gen 
eral  Lee.  The  Army  of  the  Potomac  had  been  with 
drawn  from  Harrison's  Landing  on  the  James  to 
Acquia  Creek  and  to  Alexandria,  and  the  greater  por 
tion  of  it  for  the  time,  passed  under  the  command  of 
General  Pope  in  conjunction  with  his  own  Army  of 
Virginia,  which  had  hastily  been  gathered  together  by 
the  order  of  the  President,  June  27th,  1862.  With 
these  joint  forces,  General  Pope  had  met,  and  had  en 
deavored  to  hold  in  check,  the  Southern  Army  moving 
northward  from  Richmond  under  the  direct  command 
of  General  R.  E.  Lee.  The  fighting  had  continued 
during  the  latter  days  of  August,  during  which  the 
battles  at  Bristow,  Manassas,  Groveton,  Chantilly,  and 
elsewhere  had  occurred.  These  battles  were  often  gen 
erally  designated  as  the  "Second  Manassas"  or  "Second 
Bull-Run."  As  a  whole  the  result  was  greatly  against 
the  United  States  troops,  Pope  with  his  command  being 
gradually  forced  backwards  to  the  fortifications  of 
Washington. 

At  the  time  I  arrived  in  Alexandria,  the  greatest  con 
fusion  prevailed,  vast  numbers  of  wounded  had  found 
their  way  back  to  Alexandria,  and  the  hospitals  were 


Fortunes  of  War  197 

filled  to  overflowing^  Transportation  to  and  from  the 
battle-fields  via  Fairfax  Station  was  deficient.  I  at 
once  put  myself  in  touch  with  the  railroad  men,  and  as 
many  of  the  wounded  as  possible  were  brought  in. 

The  battle-grounds  were  occupied  by  the  enemy,  and 
access  to  our  captured  hospitals  was  in  a  general  way 
cut  off.  /Finally,  Medical  Inspector  Coolidge  was  al 
lowed  to  pass  within  the  enemy's  lines,  with  certain 
supplies.  Dr.  Coolidge  had,  in  ante-war  times,  been 
on  terms  of  acquaintance  with  General  Lee,  and  he  made 
strenuous  efforts  to  have  such  help  as  was  possible, 
rendered  to  our  wounded.  Unfortunately,  just  at  this 
time,  a  spirit  of  irritation  existed  among  the  Southern 
leaders,  brought  about  possibly  by  unwise  actions  and 
orders  of  General  Pope.  The  Confederate  government 
had  retaliated  and  issued  orders,  declaring  that  he  or 
his  commissioned  officers  were  not  entitled  to  be  con 
sidered  as  prisoners  of  war,  etc.  The  ordinary  humane 
considerations  as  to  the  wounded  were  therefore  un 
fortunately  disturbed,  and  it  became  hence  a  matter  of 
difficulty  to  render  very  efficient  aid  to  our  own 
wounded,  who  had  been  left  on  the  field. 

Our  surgeons,  it  is  true,  had  remained  with  their 
injured,  but  their  medical  supplies  had  been  captured 
and  largely  used.  In  truth,  one  cannot  blame  the  Con 
federate  medical  officers  for  laying  hands  on  these  hos 
pital  supplies,  of  which  their  own  sick  and  wounded 
were  so  much  in  need.  At  last,  by  persistency  and  by 
personal  influence,  Medical  Inspector  Coolidge  did  suc 
ceed  in  obtaining  from  the  Southern  commander,  an 
amelioration  of  the  strictness  of  their  order  which  for 
a  while  pressed  so  heavily  upon  our  wounded  of  the 
"Second  Bull  Run." 

From  the  reasons  which  I  have  thus  given,  it  can 


198  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

be  understood  that  few,  if  any,  regular  ambulance  trains 
were  at  first  permitted  to  be  run  to  the  field.  Those 
who  came  were  those  who  could  see  to  their  own  trans 
portation,  and  it  was  astonishing  how  many  could  do 
this  under  the  spur  of  capture  and  imprisonment  by  the 
enemy. 

[My  work  in  preparation  for,  and  the  reception  of, 
our  poor  fellows  was  incessant,  and  we  were  very  short- 
handed.  I  see  from  my  letters  that  for  three  nights 
and  two  days  I  could  not  lie  down,  but  was  on  my  feet, 
receiving  and  distributing  the  wounded  as  they  arrived. 
The  work  was  incessant  and  required  some  judgment 
and  discretion  in  its  performance.  The  boat  trans 
portation  to  Washington  was  miserably  insufficient, 
nearly  all  the  steamers  were  busy  in  bringing  troops 
up  the  Potomac,  and  scarcely  any  were  at  the  disposal 
of  the  Medical  Department.  I  was  particularly  cau 
tioned  as  to  the  character  of  the  cases  to  be  sent  to 
Washington,  and  was  instructed  to  see  to  this  myself, 
which  I  did  to  the  best  of  my  ability, — and  some  queer 
characters  of  soldiers  I  met.) 

I  remember  as  I  stood  at  the  gangway  of  a  boat, 
passing  the  wounded  on,  that  a  queer,  drunken,  jolly 
Irish  infantryman  staggered  up  to  me: 

"And  doesn't  his  honor,  the  Major,  want  a  good  guard 
to  keep  all  these  spalpeens  off."  His  arm  had  been  taken 
off  at  the  shoulder  joint,  as  I  saw.  "And,  who  are 
you?"  I  said.  "Sure,"  he  answered,  "a  poor  Irishman, 
who  had  his  arm  cut  off  at  Fairfax  this  morning,  and 
who's  walked  all  the  way  in  with  his  gun  and  his  knap 
sack,  and  who's  managed  to  git  a  little  drunk,  as  your 
honor  sees,  but  who  can  all  the  same  stand  a  good 
guard."  So  I  put  him  on  board  for  Washington. 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  con- 


Fortunes  of  War  199 

fusion  and  demoralization  of  everyone  at  and  near 
Washington  at  that  time.  All  had  failed  and  defeat 
was  everywhere;  there  seemed  to  be  no  one  who  could 
be  trusted,  no  one  who  could  make  headway  against 
our  Southern  enemy.  From  a  military  point  of  view, 
there  seemed  to  be  little  hope.  And  such  odd  things 
were  being  done.  One  little  trick  of  our  Secretary  of 
War,  Mr.  Stanton,  I  will  refer  to. 

Whenever  we  were  badly  beaten  and  when  popular 
feeling  was  dissatisfied,^Stanton  was  in  the  habit,  at 
his  own  instance,  of  issuing  or  peremptorily  directing 
the  issuing  of,  an  appeal  to  the  North,  in  the  first  place 
for  lint  and  bandages,  and  secondly,  for  surgeons  and 
nurses.  As  a  natural  result,  the  Surgeon-General's 
office  would  be  flooded  with  boxes  of  linen  scrappings 
and  home-made  bandages,  which  would  be  piled  away 
in  the  stables  and  yards,  or  sent  off  where  really  not 
wanted,  inasmuch  as  the  articles  themselves  were  usu 
ally  not  in  shape  or  condition  for  issuance  to  hospitals, 
already  usually  fully  stocked.  Then,  too,  both  doctors 
and  nurses  were  most  often  of  little  use.  Most  were 
not  competent;  they  were  untrained,  did  not  know  what 
to  do,  or  how  to  take  care  of  soldiers, — still  less  could 
they  take  care  of  themselves.  As  for  the  women,  sani 
tarians  or  nurse  corps,  they  were  terrible, — helpless, 
irritable  and  unhappy;  each  one  thinking  herself  of 
much  importance,  and  acting  under  the  direct  orders  of 
the  Secretary  of  War,  and  very  often  indeed  they  had 
seen  him  before  starting.  )  What  to  do  with  these  poor 
women  was  indeed  a  proolem.  They  would  sit  in  your 
office,  if  you  happened  to  be  a  Medical  Director,  by  ftie 
hour  at  the  time,  each  one  with  an  enamelled  leather 
bag  between  her  feet,  waiting  to  be  sent  somewhere, 
anywhere ! 


200  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

^  And  the  doctors  were  often  not  much  better.  Poor 
fellows,  how  sorry  at  times  I  have  been  for  them. 
They  would  come  down  from  their  comfortable  homes, 
full  of  desire  to  be  useful,  and  it  would  be  so  hard  to 
find  real  work  for  them.  I  remember  particularly  one 
gentleman  from  Philadelphia,  coming  to  report  to  me 
at  that  dreary  wharf  at  Alexandria,  where  I  stood  so 
long,  and  was  so  tired.  He  wanted  to  see  some  surgery 
that  day  and  then  to  go  back  that  evening  to  Washing 
ton.  Surgery,  I  had  none  to  show  him,  and  for  trans 
portation,  I  could  only  show  him  a  written  order,  for 
bidding  me  to  allow  a  single  civilian  to  leave  Alexandria 
on  a  hospital  boat,  so  great  was  the  demand  for  sick 
transportation.  However,  I  did  break  that  order  in 
his  case  and  gave  him  food  and  transportation,  and  he 
has  been  at  heart  my  enemy  ever  since.  He  thought 
I  had  neglected  and  had  failed  to  appreciate  him  that 
day  at  Alexandria. 

The  town  of  Alexandria  at  that  time  was  in  a  most 
defenseless  condition.  At  first,  the  smallest  force  of 
the  enemy  could  have  captured  it.  Later,  the  troops  of 
General  Franklin's  division  or  corps,  arrived  from  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  moved  outwards  on  the 
Fairfax  road,  General  McClellan's  headquarters  were 
for  a  short  time  in  the  town,  and  I  saw  something  of 
the  officers  of  his  staff.  There  seemed  then  to  be  a 
very  bitter  feeling  prevalent,  antagonistic  to  General 
Pope,  in  fact,  it  almost  appeared  as  if  some  were  rather 
glad  that  he  was  being  beaten,  and  there  did  not  seem 
to  be  much  activity  in  pushing  forward  to  his  assistance, 
nor  much  desire  to  do  so.  In  the  course  of  a  few  days, 
the  transportation  of  wounded  arranged  itself,  and  I 
then  was  actively  and  pleasantly  employed  in  assisting 


Fortunes  of  War  201 

Surgeon  Sumners,  U.  S.  A.,  in  professional  work  at 
the  Mansion  House  Hospital  and  elsewhere. 

At  this  place  one  morning,  a  curious  rumor  passed 
around.  It  was  that  General  Halleck  had  declared  him 
self  "Dictator,"  and  that  the  army  at  Washington  was 
satisfied  that  it  should  be  so.  As  for  those  who  were 
staying  at  Alexandria,  or  who  were  passing  through, 
all  seemed  satisfied.  I  merely  mention  this  idle  rumor 
to  show  into  what  a  state  of  doubt  and  want  of  con 
fidence  general  opinion  had  lapsed.  Halleck  was  often 
spoken  of  as  the  "Tycoon,"  but  why,  I  cannot  tell.  He 
seemed  big,  he  had  a  big  head  and  a  big  hat,  and  was 
credited  with  brains. 

It  was  generally  supposed  at  this  time  that  General 
Lee  would  advance  northward,  and  try  to  pass  through 
Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey  toward  New  York  on 
that  campaign  of  invasion  which  he  afterwards  at 
tempted  and  in  which  he  failed.  I  for  one  believed  that 
We  were  in  a  most  perilous  condition,  and  I  see  from 
my  letters  that  I  wrote  to  my  Mother  and  sisters  that, 
as  they  were  at  North  Conway  in  New  Hampshire,  they 
had  better  stay  there  until  matters  should  clear  up  a 
little,  telling  them,  too,  that  if  things  got  blacker,  I 
would  write  what  to  do  with  our  papers. 

On  the  Qth  of  September,  I  returned  to  Washington 
to  resume  my  work  at  the  office. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SOUTH    MOUNTAIN ANTIETAM 

From  the  Qth  to  the  i6th  of  September,  1862,  I  re 
mained  in  Washington,  busy  at  my  office  work,  and 
daily  visiting  the  hospitals  which  were  being  established. 
In  fact,  during  my  entire  stay  in  Washington,  I  made 
it  a  rule  to  see  as  much  as  possible  of  the  work  going 
on  in  the  hospitals.  Later,  when  large  hospitals  were 
established  in  every  direction  and  readily  accessible,  I 
made  it  a  point  to  visit  one  hospital  a  day,  especially 
when  the  injured  were  being  brought  in  from  the  front. 

During  this  week,  the  Southern  forces  under  General 
Lee  marched  northward,  fording  the  Potomac,  and  be 
gan  the  "Invasion  of  Maryland."  On  September  2, 
1862,  General  McClellan  was  placed  in  command  of  all 
troops  near  Washington  and  intended  for  the  defence 
of  the  Capital.  His  reinstatement  was  received  by  the 
troops  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  and  the  reorganiza 
tion  of  the  previously  almost  disintegrated  Army  of  the 
Potomac  took  place  in  the  most  miraculous  manner. 
The  army  crystallized  instantly,  as  it  were,  and  became 
once  more  an  efficient  force.  Then  ensued  a  rapid  pur 
suit  of  Lee,  who  had  reached  Frederick,  the  capital  of 
Maryland,  which  town,  on  General  McClellan's  ap 
proach,  he  evacuated,  and  entrenched  his  command  on 
and  along  South  Mountain,  and  during  the  night  en 
camped  behind  Antietam  Creek.  On  the  I5th  of  Sep 
tember,  General  McClellan  advanced  with  his  whole 

202 


South  Mountain — Antietam  203 

army,  which  he  drew  up  on  the  left  bank  of  the  creek, 
close  to  the  southern  lines.  The  i6th  was  spent  in 
reconnoissance,  and  on  the  I7th  was  fought  the  famous 
battle  of  Antietam,  as  a  result  of  which  General  Lee  was 
driven  across  the  Potomac  back  into  Virginia.  On  the 
1 8th  of  September,  I  received  the  following  order: 

"Washington  City,  D.  C. 

Sept.  18,  1862. 
Sir:— 

You  will  proceed  without  delay  to  Frederick,  Md.,  to 
superintend  the  selection  of  specimens  for  the  Pathologi 
cal  Museum,  connected  with  this  office.  All  medical 
officers  are  hereby  ordered  to  give  you  any  aid  in  their 
power  to  further  this  object. 

Very  respectfully  yr.  obt.  Servt. 

By  order  of  the  Surgeon  General, 

(Signed)     JOS.  R.  SMITH, 

Surgeon,  U.  S.  A. 
Dr.  J.  H.  Brinton, 

Surgeon  of  Volunteers,  etc." 

Most  of  the  orders  from  the  Surgeon-General,  which 
were  given  me,  sending  me  to  the  army  in  the  field,  were 
in  this  shape.  The  object  was  that  I  might  be  entirely 
untrammeled,  and  that  I  might  visit  any  headquarters 
or  hospitals,  and  yet  be  at  perfect  liberty  to  go  or  come 
as  I  wished,  procuring  material  for  the  national  collec 
tion,  or  literary  material  to  be  used  in  the  preparation 
of  the  Surgical  History  of  the  War.  Not  infrequently, 
I  received  important  verbal  orders,  the  execution  of 
which  was  the  prime  object  of  my  being  sent,  as  where, 
with  an  apparent  "specimen"  order,  I  was  instructed  to 
find  out  the  loss  after  a  battle,  the  extent  of  which  a 


204  Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

general  commanding  was  not  always  desirous  should 
reach  the  ears  of  a  Secretary  of  War.  An  example 
or  two  of  this  I  will  give  hereafter. 

Immediately  on  the  receipt  of  the  last  order  I  started 
for  Frederick,  Maryland.  On  reaching  Monocacy,  a 
few  miles  east  from  Frederick,  Maryland,  we  found  that 
the  bridge  over  the  stream  had  been  destroyed  by  the 
enemy.  We  were  consequently  delayed  here  for  some 
time,  but  finally  reached  Frederick.  The  largest  of  the 
hospitals  here  was  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Weit,  U.  S.  A., 
afterwards  so  distinguished  as  a  surgeon  in  New  York, 
and  here  I  saw  much  surgery,  and  met  also  my  old 
friend  Dr.  Hewitt,  whom  I  knew  so  well  in  the  West. 

I  also  met  here  the  Surgeon-General,  who  had  come 
down  from  Washington,  bringing  with  him  the  Deputy 
Inspector  General  of  the  British  Army,  afterwards  Sir 
William  Muir,  holding  a  position  corresponding  to  that 
of  our  Surgeon-General.  He  had  served  long  in  the 
East  and  in  China,  and  was  a  thorough  soldier,  and  a 
very  jolly  old  boy.  He  was  as  round  as  a  barrel,  with 
a  fine  bronzed  soldierly  face,  quick  in  his  manner,  ob 
servant,  and  possessed  evidently  of  a  thorough  military 
professional  knowledge.  By  the  Surgeon-General  I  was 
ordered  to  go  forward  to  the  headquarters, — "the  front." 
This,  I  accordingly  did,  in  an  ambulance.  Reaching 
Middletown  on  the  South  Mountain  slope,  I  found  a 
large  number  of  wounded,  who  were  being  most  effi 
ciently  cared  for  under  the  general  supervision  of  my 
old  friend  Dr.  William  Thomson,  U.  S.  A.,  an  Assistant 
Surgeon.  Hospitals  had  been  improvised  and  the  best 
done  that  was  possible.  I  made  a  very  short  stay  at 
this  hospital  depot,  as  I  had  learned  that  fighting  on  a 
large  scale  had  been  going  on  at  the  front  at  or  near 
Antietam  Creek.  Pushing  on,  I  arrived  at  the  field  of 


South  Mountain  —  Antietam  205 


Antietam.  I  reached  there  on  the  morning  of  the 
of  September,  and  was  busily  engaged  for  several  days 
in  visiting  the  various  field  hospitals.  Of  these  there 
were  very  many. 

[  During  the  battle,  the  Surgeons  of  the  different  di 
visions  established  their  field  hospitals  in  the  farm 
houses  with  their  barns  and  out-buildings  scattered  over 
the  field  of  battle,  which  extends  some  six  miles  irregu 
larly  along  Antietam  Creek,  at  a  distance,  roughly,  of 
three  miles  from  the  Potomac  River,  in  some  places  a 
little  more.  As  soon  after  the  fighting  as  was  possible, 
the  wounded  who  were  scattered  over  the  vast  area  em 
braced  by  the  battle-field  and  the  space  between  it  and 
the  Potomac  River,  over  which  the  Confederates  re 
treated,  were  taken  charge  of.  Those  who  were  able 
to  bear  transportation  were  sent  back  to  Frederick,  and 
the  great  general  hospitals  in  the  rear.  Those  who 
could  not  bear  transportation  were  gathered  into  the 
large  general  hospitals,  which  had  been  established,  one 
upon  the  right  near  Keedysville,  the  Antietam  Hospital, 
and  another  upon  the  left,  the  Locust  Spring  Hospital. 
The  Confederate  wounded  who  had  been  left  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Sharpsburg,  and  on  the  Antietam  or 
eastern  side  of  the  Potomac,  were  also  brought  back 
with  the  surgeons  left  by  their  own  people  for  their 
care.  It  was  a  long  time  before  the  vicinity  of  the 
Antietam  battle-ground  was  entirely  freed  from  the 
wounded,  but  in  a  word  it  may  be  said  that  those  treated 
in  hospital  tents  in  the  open  air  did  well,  better  indeed 
than  had  they  been  placed  in  crowded  city  hospitals. 
The  season  of  the  year,  the  temperature,  and  the  superb 
hospital  organization  were  all  in  their  favor.* 

*For  a  map  of  the  battlefield  of  Antietam  and  an  excellent  descrip 
tion  of  the  surgical  surroundings  of  the  action,  see  Medl.  and  Surg. 


206  Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

During  my  visit  to  the  field  of  Antietam,  I  had  ample 
opportunity  of  visiting  the  many  little  gatherings  of 
wounded,  which  had  formed  at  the  numerous  Jarm- 
houses,  over  and  adjoining  the  battlefield  area.  /It  was 
wonderful  indeed  to  see  how  well  the  poor  fellows  were 
getting  along.  In  many  places,  outhouses,  barns,  and 
stables  were  occupied  by  those  most  seriously  injured, 
while  those  less  seriously  wounded  lay  upon  the  ground, 
sheltered  quite  satisfactorily  by  portions  of  tents, 
stretched  blankets,  boughs  of  trees,  straw  thatchings, 
loose  boards  or  fence  rails.  The  best  of  them  would 
look  after  the  cooking,  and  the  water  supply  from 
streams  or  neighboring  springs.  They  took  care  of  each 
other,  seeing  to  physical  wants,  and  by  cheerfulness  and 
bravery,  sustaining  the  spirits  of  those  who  might  be 
dependent.  Surgical  aid  was  available  from  adjacent 
and  more  elaborately  equipped  hospitals,  but  as  above 
described,  a  mere  temporary  refuge  and  help  was  made 
practicable,  until  these  wounded  could  be  moved  back 
wards  to  organized  field  hospitals.^  The  weather,  for 
tunately,  was  clear,  dry  and  moderate;  so  that  in  fact, 
there  was  much  less  suffering  from  exposure  than  is 
usually  observed  after  great  battles. 

History  of  the  Rebellion,  Part  I,  Surg.  V.  Volume,  Appended  Docu 
ments,  page  96,  Antietam  Campaign.  By  the  way,  I  may  add  that 
this  map  and  nearly  all  the  other  field  hospital  maps,  etc.,  of  great 
battles  in  that  book,  except  the  extreme  southern  campaigns,  were 
prepared  under  my  direction  when  stationed  in  the  Surgeon-Gen 
eral's  office  in  Washington.  They  were  modified  and  reduced  by  an 
artist  named  Pohleos,  from  the  topographical  maps,  and  the  position 
of  the  hospitals  I  usually  had  located  by  any  medical  inspectors  or 
other  medical  officers,  who  might  know  the  ground  well.  My  name 
does  not  appear  in  any  of  this  work,  but  it  was  designed  by  me,  and 
much  of  it  executed  under  my  direct  superintendence.  Some  was 
done  by  my  successor  after  my  departure  from  Washington. 


South  Mountain — Antietam  207 

In  one  of  these  little  farm  hospitals,  I  learned  of  the 
death  of  my  cousin,  Harrison  White.  He  had  enlisted 
as  a  private  in  Company  B  of  the  28th  Pennsylvania 
Volunteer  Infantry  Regiment,  and  had  won  the  respect 
of  his  comrades  by  his  good  behavior.  During  the  battle 
of  Antietam,  his  regiment  was  heavily  engaged,  and  his 
company  wavering,  Harrison  sprang  in  front  of  his  com 
rades,  calling  them  to  advance  and  crying,  "Sergeant, 
let's  show  them  the  way."  He  fell,  ten  paces  in  front 
of  them,  mortally  wounded.  He  lived,  I  think,  until 
the  next  day,  and  was  buried  near  the  fence  in  the  rear 
of  a  garden.  His  grave  was  shown  to  me,  and  I  gath 
ered  some  leaves  and  grass,  and  sent  them  to  his  Mother, 
with  what  information  I  could  learn  of  his  gallant  death. 
It  seemed  to  me  a  singular  circumstance  that  one  of 
the  two  first  cousins  should  die  a  private  in  the  ranks 
of  the  army  commanded  by  the  other. 

During  my  stay  at  Antietam,  I  had  an  excellent  chance 
of  examining  the  battle-ground,  and  of  studying  more 
fully  many  incidents  which  I  previously  noticed  else 
where.  Chief  of  these  was  the  battlefield  rigidity,  the 
"instantaneous  rigor,"  or  rather  the  "rigor  of  instanta 
neous  death."  My  observations  on  these  subjects  were 
published  in  Hay's  American  Journal  of  the  Medical 
Sciences,  page  87,  January,  1870,  and  were  largely 
noticed,  and  republished  in  the  European  medical  jour 
nals.  The  most  conspicuous  and  famed  portion  of  the 
Antietam  field  was  the  "cornfield,"  and  "sunken  road" 
nearby.  In  this  cornfield,  which  was  fought  over  and 
over  again,  the  fighting  had  been  very  fierce,  and  the 
musketry  very  hot.  (jDead  bodies  were  everywhere,  and 
one  could  scarcely  walk  without  stumbling  on  one.  I 
see  that  I  have  stated  in  print  that  in  an  area,  fifty 
or  sixty  yards  square,  I  counted  forty  dead  bodies. 


208  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

"Many  of  these,"  I  said,  "lay  in  extraordinary  attitudes, 
some  with  their  arms  raised  rigidly  in  the  air,  some 
with  their  legs  drawn  up  and  fixed.  In  not  a  few,  the 
trunk  was  curved  forward  and  fixed.  These  attitudes, 
in  a  word,  were  not  those  of  the  relaxation  of  death, 
but  were  rather,  of  a  seemingly  active  character,  de 
pendent  apparently  upon  a  final  muscular  action  at  the 
last  moment  of  life,  in  the  spasm  of  which  the  muscles 
set  and  remained  rigid  and  inflexible.  The  death  in  the 
majority  of  cases  had  resulted  from  chest  wounds;  in 
fewer  instances,  from  shots  through  the  head  and 
abdomen.  The  latter  were  accompanied  by  considerable 
hemorrhage,  as  was  evident  from  the  pools  of  dark- 
colored  blood  by  the  side  of  the  bodies.  These  exam 
inations  were  made  about  thirty-six  hours  after  death, 
and  also  later.) 

In  the  "sunken  road"  or  "bloody  lane,"  in  which  a 
strong  stand  was  made,  and  the  ground  fiercely  con 
tested,  I  also  noticed  the  body  of  a  Southern  soldier, 
of  middle-age,  of  whom  I  speak  in  my  report :  "The 
body  was  in  a  semi-erect  posture.  One  of  the  feet 
rested  firmly  on  the  ground,  while  the  knee  of  the  other 
leg,  slightly  fixed,  pressed  against  the  bank  of  earth, 
forming  the  side  of  a  road.  One  arm  extended  was 
stretched  forward,  the  hand  resting  upon  the  low  breast 
work  of  fence  rails,  thrown  up  to  protect  the  trench. 
His  musket  with  ramrod  halfway  down,  had  dropped 
from  his  hand,  and  lay  on  the  ground  beside  him.  This 
soldier  had  evidently  been  killed  while  loading,  and  in 
the  act  of  rising  to  his  feet,  probably  for  the  purpose 
of  observation,  a  ball  had  passed  directly  through  the 
center  of  his  head,  and  had  emerged  posteriorly." 

In  many  similar  instances,  which  I  observed,  the  reci 
pient  of  the  death  wound  had  been  acting  on  the  de- 


South  Mountain — Antietam  209 

fensive  and  was  actually  kneeling  at  the  time.  I  have, 
however,  seen  the  same  thing,  although  more  rarely, 
in  one  who  at  the  last  moment  of  life  had  been  in 
motion,  progressing  forward.  I  have  also  seen  the  same 
rigor  in  animals,  and  notably  in  the  instance  of  a  dead 
battery  horse,  killed  on  the  road  near  Burnside's  Bridge 
in  the  same  battle.  A  bullet  had  passed  directly 
through  his  forehead  and  he  had  remained  on  his  knees, 
his  head  curved  in  air,  semi-erect,  rigid  and  unsup 
ported.  Two  other  horses  killed  at  the  same  moment, 
lay  on  their  back  and  side,  the  usual  attitude  of  dead 
animals.  The  posture  of  the  one  to  which  I  have  partic 
ularly  referred  was  very  striking,  and  full  of  grace. 
He  seemed  an  immense  figure  of  black  and  bronze,  with 
parts  of  the  dead  harness  still  lying  loosely  upon  him. 
It  was  scarcely  possible  to  believe  him  dead. 
(  When  I  first  passed  over  Antietam  field,  the  scene  was 
a  busy  one.  Men  were  actively  engaged  in  collecting 
the  wounded,  ambulances  were  hurrying  to  the  rear, 
many  of  the  slightly  wounded  were  staggering  hospital- 
wards,  and  burial  parties  were  busy  digging  long  burial 
trenches,  j  The  evidences  of  the  battle  were  everywhere, 
bullet  marks  on  corn,  twigs,  and  fences,  trees  shattered 
in  their  trunks,  and  the  dead  scattered  far  and  wide. 
In  a  day  or  so,  visitors  and  the  friends  of  the  injured 
thronged  to  the  field.) 

During  my  stay  in  Keedysville,  the  central  hospital 
point,  I  was  ordered  by  the  Surgeon-General  to  ride  to 
the  Potomac  to  see  the  field  hospitals  of  the  enemy. 
This  I  did,  and  found  them  scattered  along  the  Potomac 
River,  in  the  rear  of  a  position  which  they  had  held. 
At  one  of  these  hospitals,  the  one  near  to  Sharpsburg, 
I  found  an  old  student  of  Dr.  DaCosta  and  myself. 
His  name  was  Dr.  Dennis,  and  he  had  been  attached 


210  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

to  Stonewall  Jackson's  command.  From  him  I  learned 
many  interesting  facts,  and  began  to  appreciate  that 
there  are  always  two  parties  in  a  campaign  or  battle, — 
you,  and  your  opponents,  and  also  this  fact  which  Gen 
eral  Grant  has  so  well  brought  out  in  his  personal 
memoirs, — that,  although  you  may  feel  frightened  at 
your  position,  you  must  always  bear  in  mind  that  some 
times  your  opponent  is  as  frightened  as  yourself;  this, 
apropos  of  the  fact,  that  while  the  Union  forces  were 
trembling  in  their  boots  at  Stonewall  Jackson's  bold 
ness,  his  troops  were  disturbed  lest  their  very  boldness 
might  lead  to  their  being  cornered  and  caught.  Dr. 
Dennis  told  me,  "Doctor,  if  you  had  only  been  a  little 
sharper,  you  might  have  had  us  all." 

When  near  the  Potomac,  I  wandered  along  the  cliffs 
above  the  Maryland  bank.  There,  I  met  an  officer  of 
an  infantry  regiment,  tall,  thin  and  very  wet.  "How 
do  you  do,  Doctor?"  said  he.  "Very  well,"  said  I, 
"but  I  don't  recollect  you;  who  are  you?"  "Why,"  he 
replied,  "don't  you  know  me?  I  have  sold  you  many  a 
book.  I  used  to  be  a  salesman  at  Lindsay  &  Blakiston's 
medical  bookstore  in  Philadelphia,  and  if  I  hadn't  been 
a  -  -  fool,  I  would  have  been  there  yet."  He  seemed 
so  upset,  that  I  inquired  into  particulars,  when  he  told 
me  that  he  held  a  Lieutenant's  commission  in  the  n8th 
Pennsylvania  Infantry,  which  had  been  raised  by  the 
exertions  of  the  merchants  of  the  Philadelphia  Corn 
Exchange;  that  his  regiment  had  been  ordered  over  the 
river  to  see  if  any  of  the  rebels  remained  there,  and 
had  found  them  and  had  been  subjected  to  a  terrific  fire 
from  a  Southern  brigade,  who  suddenly  appeared  from 
behind  a  tow  path,  or  natural  defence  of  the  ground, 
and  were  driven  back  to  the  northern  side  of  the  river 
in  the  greatest  confusion,  and  with  heavy  loss.  "So, 


South  Mountain — Antietam  211 

here  I  am,"  added  the  speaker,  "but  many  of  my  com 
pany  Have  been  left  on  the  ground  behind." 

General  Lee  made  a  narrow  escape  with  his  army 
after  the  battle  of  Antietam.  Had  General  McClellan 
advanced,  the  Southern  troops  would  in  all  probability 
have  in  good  part  been  captured.  As  I  was  passing 
over  the  field,  on  this  very  morning,  I  met  a  young 
United  States  officer,  moving  forward  alone.  I  spoke 
to  him,  some  commonplace  of  the  fight;  "Ah,"  said  he, 
"if  General  McClellan  could  only  realize  how  in  every 
hour's  delay,  he  is  losing  a  lifetime  of  glory." 

I  often  wondered  at  General  McClellan's  unexplained 
inactivity  after  Antietam,  but  within  a  month  of  this 
writing  I  was  told  by  General  Ruggles,  a  patient  of 
mine,  that  he  had  seen  a  dispatch  of  Halleck  to  McClel 
lan,  or  had  been  told  of  it  by  McClellan,  in  which  Gen 
eral  Halleck  positively  directed  McClellan  not  to  ad 
vance,  or  make  any  offensive  demonstration,  but  to 
remain  quiet,  and  hold  his  own,  and  above  all  things 
to  remember  that  any  incautious  attempt  to  follow,  or 
to  flank  Lee,  would  uncover  Washington,  and  risk  the 
safety  of  the  President,  the  Capitol,  and  the  Nation. 
I  have  no  doubt  from  the  positiveness  of  General  Rug 
gles'  assertion,  from  his  official  position,  and  his  in 
timacy  with  General  McClellan,  that  his  statement  to 
me  embodied  the  truth. 

The  Surgeon-General  and  his  guest,  Deputy  Inspector- 
General  Muir  of  the  British  Army,  spent  some  little 
time  at  Keedysville,  in  the  rear  of  McClellan's  head 
quarters.  The  village  hotel  was  kept  by  a  very  clever 
fellow,  who  had  an  exceedingly  attractive  little  wife, 
at  least  so  the  British  Inspector  thought,  for  he  insisted 
on  paying  special  attentions  to  her,  much  as  would  have 
been  his  manner  to  a  British  barmaid.  A  division  of 


212  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

our  troops  marched  past,  at  the  time,  and  I  recall  the 
inspector  leaning  out  of  the  hotel  window  with  his  arm 
around  the  hostess's  waist,  much  to  the  husband's 
chagrin,  and  to  the  evident  astonishment  of  the  young 
woman,  who  saw  that  no  indelicacy  was  meant,  but 
still  felt  that  the  custom  was  as  yet  foreign  to  Mary 
land  good  manners.  But  the  Briton  stuck  to  his  post 
with  soldier-like  pertinacity. 

It  was  just  at  this  time  that  the  regimental  bands 
had  been  diminished  in  number,  and  in  many  cases  dis 
continued.  Our  men  marched  past  well,  but  still  a  little 
languidly,  for  they  were  tired,  and  I  recall  Muir  say 
ing  to  me,  "It  may  be  more  economical,  and  perhaps 
it  may  be  wise,  to  stop  the  music,  but  then  a  little  strain 
would  make  the  men  step  up,  and  make  their  heels 
come  forward" ;  and  I  must  say,  I  thought  so  too. 

Taking  it  all  in  all,  the  struggle  at  Antietam  was  a 
typical  battle,  fought  in  the  open ;  it  was  typical  also 
as  showing  how  the  Americans  fight,  no  matter  where 
from.  Every  foot  of  ground  was  fiercely  contested, 
and  when  either  party  gave  way,  it  was  before  a  crush 
ing  force  of  men  or  fire.  It  was  a  fight  of  which 
neither  of  the  contesting  armies  need  be  ashamed;  but 
each  with  truth,  might  be  proud  of  the  other. 

By  the  26th  of  September,  1862,  I  had  returned  to 
Washington  and  set  myself  busily  at  my  proper  work, 
the  Surgical  History  of  the  War,  and  the  collection  of 
material  for  the  Museum. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  FIRST   FREDERICKSBURG 

After  the  battle  of  Antietam,  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
remained  on  the  north  side  of  the  Potomac,  and  then 
crossed  into  Virginia  towards  the  end  of  October.  On 
the  7th  of  November,  General  McClellan  was  relieved 
from  his  command  which  was  then  assumed  by  General 
Burnside.  On  the  I7th  of  November  the  army  marched 
for  Fredericksburg,  and  by  the  2Oth,  a  large  force 
had  reached  Falmouth  on  the  north  bank  of  the  river, 
directly  opposite  to  Fredericksburg.  By  the  loth  of 
December,  the  entire  army  was  concentrated  on  the 
north  bank  of  the  Rappahannock.  During  this  night, 
and  the  following  day,  boats  were  placed  in  position 
and  with  the  pontoon  bridges  thus  formed  under  a 
heavy  fire  of  the  enemy,  the  army  crossed  the  river, 
occupying  the  greater  portion  of  the  city,  while  that 
part  farthest  from  the  river  remained  in  the  enemy's 
hands. 

On  the  1 3th,  the  fierce  fight  of  the  "First  Fredericks 
burg"  occurred.  General  Burnside  with  all  his  force, 
having  crossed  the  Rappahannock  and  occupied  the 
town,  advanced  against  General  Lee,  who  had  marched 
his  forces  along  the  hills  on  the  southwest  of  the  town. 
In  spite  of  the  most  heroic  efforts,  the  assault  failed 
completely,  the  United  States  troops  were  repulsed  and 
fell  back  to  their  position,  as  occupied  on  the  morning 
of  Saturday  the  I3th  of  December,  1862. 

213 


214  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

A  report  of  what  was  going  on  at  the  army  front 
reached  Washington  while  the  battle  was  raging,  and 
on  that  evening,  I  was  despatched  with  the  Surgeon- 
General  to  army  headquarters.  I  reached  there  on  the 
morning  of  the  I4th,  Sunday,  and  immediately  crossed 
on  the  pontoon  bridge.  The  court-house,  churches  and 
other  large  buildings  were  occupied  temporarily  as  hos 
pitals.  Very  many  of  the  wounded  had  already,  that 
is  during  the  night  of  the  I3th  and  the  morning  of  the 
I4th,  been  sent  across  the  bridge  to  their  respective 
corps  and  division  hospitals,  on  the  high  ground  lately 
occupied  by  the  army  in  the  rear  at  Falmouth,  and 
along  the  Acquia  Creek  and  railroad.  Here,  I  ought 
to  state  that  Acquia  Creek  landing  on  the  Potomac 
River,  about  ten  miles  from  Fredericksburg,  was  a  base 
of  supplies  for  the  army,  and  that  a  railroad  connected 
the  two  points.  If  I  remember  rightly,  the  road  at 
this  time  was  under  the  able  supervision  of  Mr.  Frank 
Thomson.*  Communication  with  Washington  and 
transportation  for  the  wounded,  and  for  military  pur 
poses,  was  thus  comparatively  easy,  and  very  great 
numbers  of  wounded  were  readily,  and  in  comparative 
comfort,  carried  to  the  hospitals  at  Washington,  or  to 
points  farther  north.  Large  tent  hospitals  had  also  been 
established  at  Acquia  Creek  and  at  Potomac  Creek,  at 
or  near  the  railroad  crossing. 

(My  duty  at  Fredericksburg,  at  this  time,  was  to  help 
in  every  way  those  who  were  caring  for  the  wounded, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  look  after  the  interests  of  the 
Museum.  Dr.  Moss,  who  was  then  assistant  curator 
of  the  Museum,  had  accompanied  me,  and  was  very 
busy  gathering  up  specimens  to  be  taken  up  to  Wash 
ington  for  preparation  and  preservation.  The  court 

*Afterwarcls  President  of  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad. 


The  First  Fredericksburg  215 

house  hospital  was  in  the  centre  of  the  town.  The 
operating-table  was  placed  in  the  court-room  and  a  great 
many  operations  were  performed?)  During  the  after 
noon,  if  I  remember  rightly,  of  Monday  the  I5th,  all 
operations  were  discontinued  and  the  hospital  appoint 
ments  were  removed.  Very  shortly  after  this  was  done, 
a  shell  exploded  in  the  court-room,  just  where  the 
operating-table  had  stood,  and  everything  was  turned 
topsy-turvy.  Fortunately  no  one  was  in  the  room  at 
the  time.  Had  this  occurred  the  day  before,  or  in  the 
morning,  while  the  operations  were  going  on,  a  good 
many  of  us  would  have  come  to  grief. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  all  of  the  time  during 
which  we  occupied  Fredericksburg,  the  town,  in  one 
sense,  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  enemy.  It  was  com 
pletely  at  the  mercy  of  the  heavy  guns,  planted  above 
and  below  the  town;  at  least  I  heard  they  were  heavy 
guns  and  at  all  events  they  were  efficient  batteries.* 
The  pontoon  bridge  was  completely  under  their  fire. 

Occasionally  a  shell  or  two  wrould  be  fired  into  the 
town  or  at  the  steeples  of  the  churches,  or  at  the  bridge, 
but  in  the  main  we  were  allowed  a  quiet  possession. 
The  scene  was  a  busy  one,  the  town  was  full  of  our 
soldiers,  many  bivouacked  in  the  streets  and  yards  and 
grounds,  ambulances  were  moving  to  and  fro,  and  a 
long  trail  of  wounded  were  constantly  passing  toward 
the  bridge.  I  slept  my  first  night  in  the  basement  lec 
ture  or  Sunday-school  room  of  a  church  in  the  centre  of 

*The  Confederate  Artillery  at  Fredericksburg  was  very  efficient 
and  that  portion  commanding  the  city  was  commanded  by  that  great 
artillerist  General  E.  P.  Alexander,  who  stated  to  Lee  before  the 
battle  opened  that  he  could  with  his  guns  "Rake  those  fields  as  with 
a  fine  tooth  comb  and  that  a  chicken  crossing  them  could  not 
live."— E.  T.  S. 


216  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  town.  It  had  a  tall  steeple,  and  this  had  been  occu 
pied  by  one  or  two  men  of  our  signal  corps.  When  I 
say  occupied,  I  mean  that  a  rope  had  been  thrown  over 
the  apex  of  the  steeple,  and  that  a  man  or  two  had 
been  drawn  up  and  sat  there,  high  in  the  air,  indicating 
by  the  movements  of  little  flags  what  they  saw  within 
the  enemy's  lines,  or  conveying  orders  by  telegraph  to 
our  commanders.  Finally,  their  movements  were  ob 
served  by  the  enemy,  and  their  perch  became  at  once  a 
target.  It  was  a  nice  shot,  but  finally  the  Southern 
cannoneers  got  the  range  and  one  of  their  shot  passed 
directly  through  the  steeple,  just  above  the  attachment 
of  the  ropes,  which  held  up  the  eyrie  of  the  signal  men. 
Evidently  the  latter  dreaded  the  next  shot,  for  they 
descended  with  great  rapidity  and  skill,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  onlooking  soldiers  below.  So  they  es 
caped,  but  the  Southerners  became,  and  continued  sus 
picious  of  the  steeple,  and  every  now  and  then  turned 
their  attention  towards  it. 

Early,  very  early  in  the  morning,  I  was  awakened 
from  my  comfortable  nap  in  the  basement  (I  had 
arranged  two  benches  with  great  dexterity  as  a  bed), 
by  a  crashing  sound,  and  a  general  jar  and  concussion. 
I  went  into  the  yard  to  see  what  had  happened,  and 
found  some  soldiers  looking  up  at  the  steeple.  They 
pointed  out  to  me  with  great  glee,  how  another  shell, 
a  big  one,  had  also  gone  through  the  steeple,  not  quite 
so  high  up. 

And  here  I  saw  a  good  example  of  a  soldier's  reck 
lessness  or  stupidity.  A  squad  were  about  getting  their 
breakfast,  and  the  man  whose  duty  it  was  to  light  the 
fire  had  just  found  a  nice  piece  of  pine  board,  the  top 
of  a  box.  Desiring  to  split  this,  he  had  set  upright  an 
unexploded  percussion  shell,  twelve  inches  long,  with  a 


The  First  Fredericksburg  217 

brass  screw  percussion  point  upwards.  I  caught  him 
in  the  very  act  of  raising  his  board,  to  bring  it  down 
with  all  his  force.  I  pushed  him  over,  to  his  great  sur 
prise  and  indignation.  Had  I  been  a  moment  later, 
and  the  shell  a  live  one,  which  I  believe  it  was,  this 
history  might  never  have  been  written.  A  somewhat 
similar  instance  occurred  after  Antietam.  Two  soldiers 
walking  in  the  turnpike  found  a  shell,  which  had  been 
fired.  One  said  to  the  other,  "John,  there  are  two  kinds 
of  shell;  one  goes  off  by  a  fuse  like  a  fire-cracker,  and 
the  other  explodes  when  it  strikes  its  point;  that's  what 
they  call  a  percussion  shell;  I'll  show  you  this  one." 
And  then  he  held  it  carefully  point  downwards  and 
dropped  it  on  the  turnpike  bed.  It  was  a  percussion 
shell, — did  explode, — and  but  one  mangled  man  was 
left  to  tell  this  anecdote. 

I  remember  my  breakfast  on  that  morning.  Dr. 
Moss  and  I  had  found  a  little  flour  and  we  chartered 
an  old  negro  woman  whom  we  had  discovered  hidden 
away  in  the  cellar  of  an  old  mansion  house,  to  make  us 
some  cakes.  "Lor,  Massa,  flour  a'int  no  good  widout 
them  oder  things" ;  but  we  persisted,  and  such  a  dismal 
mess !  I  have  never  eaten  any  cake  since  without  think 
ing  of  this.  Later  we  saw  a  solitary  rooster  stalking 
along.  We  were  very  hungry,  and  ideas  of  spring 
chicken  flitted  through  our  brain.  We  consulted  dear 
old  Dr.  Cuyler,  who  happened  to  be  with  us.  "He 
(the  chicken),  might  do,"  he  said.  So  we  started  a 
darkey  boy  after  him,  for  he  was  a  wary  chicken,  but 
the  darkey  caught  him  and  killed  him,  and  we  later 
tried  to  eat  him,  but  our  failure  was  dismal.  He  might 
have  lived  in  the  time  of  the  Revolution. 

In  passing  through  Fredericksburg,  I  was  much  struck 
by  the  real  effect  of  the  cannonade.  Both  before  and 


218  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton        4 

during  the  placing  of  the  pontoons,  the  town  had  been 
subjected  to  a  heavy  plunging  artillery  fire  from  many 
of  our  guns,  placed  on  the  elevated  northern  bank  of 
the  river,  Stafford  Heights.  The  shot  had  gone 
everywhere,  and  had  struck  many  buildings,  and  yet, 
save  the  presence  of  the  shot  holes,  there  did  not 
seem  to  have  been  a  very  great  amount  of  damage 
done.  The  buildings  were  still  standing.  There  had 
not  been  much  injury  by  fire.  Interiors  had  been 
somewhat  disturbed,  but  considering  all  the  circum 
stances  of  the  cannon  fire,  there  did  not  seem  to  be  a 
great  deal  to  show  for  it.  I  saw  one  queer  sight,  of 
a  room,  a  small  one,  in  which  a  shell  had  burst  in  a 
feather-bed  just  after  its  occupant  had  risen  and  left 
the  room.  The  effect  of  the  explosion  was  extraor 
dinary,  the  entire  surface  of  the  room,  walls  and  ceiling 
alike  were  coated  or  plastered  with  adherent  feathers; 
one  could  not  but  wonder  how  and  why  they  stuck. 

It  was  difficult  for  me  at  that  time  to  understand  why 
the  town,  when  we  were  in  it,  was  not  more  heavily 
bombarded,  and  why  the  pontoon  bridge  was  not  de 
stroyed.  The  position  of  the  commanding  batteries 
was  such,  that  it  would  have  been  an  easy  matter  to 
have  rendered  the  passage  of  the  bridge  by  us  diffi 
cult  and  dangerous.  It  may  be,  however,  that  the 
enemy,  confident  in  their  position,  wished  to  have  as 
many  of  the  United  States  troops  as  possible  on  the 
south  side  of  the  river,  and  courted  an  assault,  in  the 
confidence  of  the  impregnability  of  their  position,  a 
series  of  slopes,  leading  up  to  steep  hills,  defended  by 
strong  works  and  heavy  batteries.  They  unquestion 
ably  had  every  reason  to  resist  and  repulse  an  assault, 
and  I  suppose  that  they  believed  that  in  the  event  of 
another  unsuccessful  effort  on  our  part,  and  a  retreat 


The  First  Fredericksburg  219 

in  confusion,  they  would  be  able  to  capture  or  destroy 
our  entire  force.  I  went  out  toward  our  picket  lines, 
to  see  the  field,  and  I  know  that  from  what  I  saw,  and 
from  what  I  was  told,  I  was  very  much  impressed  with 
the  enemy's  strength,  and  with  our  weakness  of  position. 
It  did  not  seem  to  me  a  military  possibility  for  an 
attacking  force  to  be  able  to  make  headway  against  a 
brave  enemy,  so  favorably  located,  and  I  think  that  at 
that  time  our  men  felt  so  too. 

I  recall  a  funny  incident,  illustrative  of  the  peculiar 
humor  of  the  American  soldier.  The  bridge  of  boats 
between  Fredericksburg  and  Falmouth  was  guarded  on 
the  Falmouth  side  by  sentries  to  prevent  unauthorized 
passage.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  battle,  a  straggler 
hastily  crossing  was  halted  by  the  sentry  on  the  friendly 
bank,  and  informed  that  he  could  not  pass  without  per 
mit  or  orders.  "Not  pass!  Not  pass!"  exclaimed  the 
astonished  man.  "Indeed,  you  must  let  me  pass,  I  must 
get  across,  for  I  assure  you  that  I  am  the  most  demoral 
ized  man  in  the  whole  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac." 

The  American  soldier,  or  let  me  say,  the  American 
citizen  volunteer,  is  a  reasoning  sort  of  animal ;  he  knows 
just  as  well  as  his  commander,  and  sometimes  better, 
when  he  can  advance,  and  when  he  can  fall  back;  in 
other  words,  when  he  can  win,  or  when  he  must  lose. 
More  than  one  battle  in  our  war  was  "the  men's  fight." 

As  I  saw  our  troops  in  front  of  Fredericksburg,  there 
was  little  shelter  for  them,  except  in  their  distance  from 
the  enemy's  guns,  and  our  advance  lines  and  pickets 
were  flat  on  the  ground,  covered  by  such  scanty  pro 
tection  as  they  could  scrape  together,  yet  exposed  to 
the  fire  of  the  enemy  from  their  well-constructed  rifle 
pits,  on  higher  ground.  As  a  consequence  of  the  supine 
position,  some  of  our  men  received  strange  ranging 


220  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

wounds,  with  remote  and  singular  points  of  entrance 
and  exit. 

/  In  consequence,  too,  of  the  openness  of  the  battle 
ground,  and  of  its  exposed  position,  it  had  been  a  diffi 
cult  matter  to  remove  the  wounded,  and  yet  so  admirably 
had  the  ambulance  department,  and  the  field  hospital 
been  arranged  by  the  skill  and  forethought  of  the  Medi 
cal  Director  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  Surgeon  J. 
Letterman,  U.  S.  A.,  and  so  efficient  were  the  medical 
officers  and  the  attendants,  that  during  the  night  fol 
lowing  the  battle,  all  of  the  wounded  were  taken  off 
the  field  of  battle  and  carried  to  the  near  hospitals. 
This  demanded  great  bravery  and  determination  on  the 
part  of  the  ambulance  corps,  since  every  movement  had 
to  be  made  in  the  dark,  a  glimmer  of  light  sufficing  to 
draw  the  enemy's  fire.  By  the  night  of  the  I4th  (Sun 
day),  most  of  the  serious  operations  and  dressings  had 
been  performed.  During  that  night,  it  was  whispered 
that  on  the  I5th  (Monday)  all  of  the  wounded  would 
be  removed,  as  it  was  the  intention  to  withdraw  the 
army  away  from  the  town  to  the  northern  bank  of 
the  river j  On  the  afternoon  of  the  I5th,  I  encountered 
Dr.  Moss,  my  assistant,  bringing  with  him  an  immense 
number  of  surgical  specimens  for  the  Museum,  some 
of  these  in  boxes,  which  we  sneaked  over  in  the  wagons; 
the  remainder  were  carried  in  great  bags  on  the  backs 
of  one  or  two  very  black  negroes.  Just  as  we  reached 
the  northern  bank,  one  or  two  shots  passed  over  the 
bridge,  Dr.  Moss,  who  was  somewhat  philosophically 
inclined,  remarking,  "What  a  blessed  escape,  for  what 
a  wretched  ending  it  would  have  been  to  one's  life,  to 
have  been  swept  into  the  river  on  an  ignominious  re 
treat,  holding  onto  a  bag  of  bones."  I  know  that  we 
made  very  good  time  on  that  bridge,  and  I  felt  greatly 


The  First  Fredericksburg  221 

relieved  as  I  climbed  the  river  bank  on  the  crooked 
road  near  the  Lacy  House.*  On  the  night  of  the  I5th 
of  December  (Monday)  the  army  was  withdrawn  from 
Fredericksburg  to  its  old  position.  /  I  might  add  that 
after  the  wounded  were  brought  away  from  the  town, 
the  city  was  carefully  searched  by  medical  officers,  to 
see  that  none  were  left  behind. 

From  this  time,  and  during  the  next  ten  days,  the 
disabled  were  sent  as  rapidly  as  possible  on  the  rail 
road  to  Acquia  Creek,  and  thence  by  boats  to  the  general 
hospital  at  Washington  and  elsewhere^)  I  do  not  think 
too  much  praise  can  be  accorded  Medical  Director  Let- 
terman  and  his  assistants  for  the  wonderful  manner  in 
which  the  wounded  in  this  battle  were  removed,  cared 
for,  and  transported  northwards. 

For  a  day  or  two,  I  remained  at  the  headquarters  of 
the  army,  living  at  the  hospital.  Here  I  saw  a  great 
deal  of  surgery  and  had  many  pleasant  experiences.  I 
remember  when  I  first  went  there,  and  before  I  had 
arranged  my  means  and  quarters  of  living,  meeting  one 
who  at  that  time  was  regarded  as  a  great  philanthropist. 
In  my  judgment  he  was  a  great  humbug  and  hypocrite 
and  did  not  afterwards  turn  out  very  well.  However, 
when  I  met  him,  he  welcomed  me  warmly  after  his  way, 
"So  glad  to  see  you,  so  glad,  and  how  are  you?'* 
"Hungry,"  said  I,  "very  hungry."  "How  fortunate, 
how  very  fortunate!"  he  added,  "I  have  brought  down 

*This  fine  old  residence,  a  long  low  mansion  situated  on  the 
Stafford  Hills  just  across  the  Rappahannock,  was  better  known  as 
"Chatham,"  and,  if  I  correctly  remember,  was  frequently  visited 
by  both  Washington  and  Lee.  On  account  of  its  associations,  Lee 
instructed  his  artillery  not  to  damage  it.  I  saw  one  good  sized 
solid  shot  imbedded  in  the  back  wall  near  the  roof  when  I  visited 
the  old  place  in  1903.— E.  T.  S. 


222  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton        ? 

two  fine  turkeys."  Here  I  felt  myself  warming  up. 
"Two  fine  turkeys,  for  Willie  Averill's  dinner,  but  I've 
left  them  in  Washington.  Good-bye,  take  care  of 
yourself." 

Somewhere  around  this  time,  Dr.  Hammond,  the 
Surgeon-General  visited  at  the  headquarters'  camp.  I 
think  I  then  saw  him  at  his  best.  His  troubles  had  not 
yet  come  upon  him.  Big,  burly  and  genial,  proud  of  his 
high  position  in  the  army,  full  of  professional  feeling, 
and  anxious  to  develop  good  feeling  in  the  medical 
corps,  he  looked  and  acted  the  Surgeon-General.  He 
took  also  a  great  professional  interest  in  the  cases  before 
him,  and  insisted  upon  operating  himself,  doing  one  or 
two  operations  fairly  well,  notably  an  elbow  excision. 
He  was,  moreover,  well  pleased  with  the  medical 
arrangements,  the  hospital  organizations,  and  the  am 
bulance  corps. 

I  returned  to  Washington  about  the  ipth  of  December, 
and  was  immediately  at  my  old  work.  Specimens  were 
now  accumulating  at  the  Museum.  Very  soon  after  my 
arrival,  I  sent  Dr.  Moss  down  to  the  army  for  more. 
By  this  time,  the  surgeons  generally  were  becoming  in 
terested  in  the  Museum  project,  and  were  taking  pains 
to  get  and  preserve  what  they  could  for  the  collection. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

VARIED   LABORS 

I  have  not  yet  spoken  of  the  Medical  Inspectors.  The 
grade  of  Medical  Inspector  was  established  by  the  Act 
of  April  1 6,  1862.  These  officers  were  to  be  eight  in 
number,  each  with  the  rank,  pay,  and  emoluments  of 
a  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  Cavalry.  There  was  also  to 
be  a  Medical  Inspector-General  with  the  rank  and  pay 
of  Colonel.  For  this  office,  Dr.  Perly,  who  was  some 
congressman's  relative  or  friend  had  been  selected.  I 
at  first  thought  I  would  have  been  one  of  the  Medical 
Inspectors,  but  the  appointments  were  made  by  political 
influence  and  not  according  to  the  standing  of  the  man 
upon  the  roll  of  surgeons  of  their  respective  Staff  Corps. 
About  this  time,  Dr.  Hammond  told  me  that  he  would 
nominate  me  for  one  of  the  positions,  but  I  declined, 
not  being  willing  to  enter  into  any  political  struggle, 
and  being  well  satisfied  with  what  I  had  already  acquired. 

I  had  now  begun  to  make  a  few  valuable  friends  in 
Washington.  If  I  remember  rightly  my  first  start  in 
this  direction  was  through  Dr.  Coolidge,  who  was  ap 
pointed  one  of  the  new  Medical  Inspectors.  He  was  a 
surgeon  in  the  old  army  and  had  seen  a  good  deal  of 
service.  He  was  a  man  of  culture,  of  good  heart,  and 
of  a  most  kind  and  gentle  manner.  I  grew  to  know  Dr. 
Coolidge  well,  and  in  fact,  late  in  the  war,  I  became 
intimate  with  him.  After  I  left  the  army,  he  was  sta 
tioned  in  Philadelphia,  and  when  he  was  sent  away,  he 

223 


224  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

left  with  me  many  of  his  books  for  safe-keeping. 
Dying,  shortly  afterwards,  these  volumes  were  sent  to 
my  old  friend,  his  widow,  who  at  that  time  was  living 
in  New  England.  Among  the  books  was  a  complete 
set  of  United  States  Army  Registers,  back  to  and  in 
cluding  revolutionary  times.  But  two  complete  sets 
were  in  existence,  this  one  of  Dr.  Coolidge's  and  one 
belonging  to  the  late  General  Folten,  Engineers  Corps, 
U.  S.  A.  In  the  War  of  1812,  when  the  British  burned 
the  Government  buildings  at  Washington,  all  the  official 
registers  were  burned.  As  far  as  known,  these  two  sets 
were  the  only  private  complete  ones.  After  Dr.  Coo 
lidge's  death,  I  notified  the  Surgeon-General's  library 
of  the  existence  of  this  complete  register.  Dr.  Coolidge's 
wife  had  been  a  Miss  Morris,  one  of  a  navy  family,  and 
it  was  her  brother,  Lieutenant  George  M.  Morris,  who 
commanded  the  Cumberland,  in  the  absence  of  Captain 
Radford,  when  she  was  sunk  with  her  flag  flying,  at 
Hampton  Roads,  by  the  rebel  Merrimac,  March  8,  1862. 
Mrs.  Coolidge  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  presented  me 
to  the  family  of  Captain  Wilkes,  so  well  known  in  the 
"Trent"  affair,  and  thus  I  was  introduced  by  one  person 
to  another,  until  I  had  formed  a  very  pleasant  circle  of 
acquaintances,  among  the  old  Washington  people,  who 
antedated  the  political  people  of  the  day, — but  all  this 
took  time. 

I  had  hoped  to  be  able  to  spend  my  Christmas  at 
home  this  year  of  1862,  but  affairs  at  Washington  were 
so  urgent,  that  I  was  not  able  to  do  so.  So  I  spent 
my  holiday  season  at  Washington,  feeling  lonely 
enough,  for  I  had  been  away  from  home  for  two  Christ- 
mases;  the  week  passed,  however,  and  then  came  New 
Year's  Day.  New  Year's  Day  at  Washington  was  the 
day  of  the  year,  the  gala  day.  Everyone,  every  official, 


Varied  Labors  225 

feels  it  his  duty  to  dress  up  in  his  finest  toggery,  and 
to  pay  his  respects  to  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
and  from  him  downwards  to  all  chiefs  of  lesser 
magnitude.  First  of  all,  the  members  of  the  diplomatic 
body  go  in  state  and  full  dress  to  pay  their  respects, 
then  in  turn  comes  the  army  and  navy  in  full  dress, 
then  the  civil  service,  and  so  on,  and  last  of  all,  the 
general  public.  And  this  was  the  state  programme. 
Let  me  speak  of  my  own  department,  "quorum  pars 
(minima)  fui." 

At  ten  o'clock  or  thereabouts,  we  officials  of  the  Sur 
geon-General's  office,  met  at  the  office  in  full,  big  full 
uniform,  sword,  belt  and  sash,  and  if  one  had  them, 
cocked  hat  and  epaulets,  although,  as  these  were  war 
times,  the  cocked  hat  and  epaulets  might  be  dispensed 
with.  However,  we  made  quite  a  show  and  followed 
our  chief,  meeting  the  officers  from  the  War  Depart 
ment,  and  officers  in  garrison,  and  in  fact,  officers  in 
general,  and  in  we  filed,  the  General  commanding  the 
army  leading,  and  solemnly  we  marched  past  the  Presi 
dent,  as  he  stood,  long,  lanky  and  plain-looking,  in  the 
big  room  (I  think  the  east  room)  of  the  White  House. 
I  do  not  think  that  it  crossed  my  mind  that  never  man 
had  greater  work  to  do,  or  did  it  better,  or  left  a 
nobler  name  to  after  ages.  He  bowed  to  each  one  of 
us  as  we  passed,  and  then  we  dispersed  for  a  little 
while  through  the  rooms.  The  scene  was  a  brilliant 
one,  shining  uniforms  were  everywhere,  and  there  was 
a  certain  quaintness  to  an  American  eye  in  the  strange 
court  dresses  of  the  diplomatic  corps,  who  had  lingered 
to  see  the  military  and  navy  reception. 

On  the  4th  of  February,  I  was  sent  down  hurriedly 
to  visit  the  general  hospital  at  Annapolis,  Maryland,  to 
report  upon  the  cases  of  hospital  gangrene  said  to  be 


226  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

there.     I  accordingly  went,  and   found  that  a  number 
of  such  cases  had  occurred.* 

They  were  all  Union  soldiers  who  had  been  wounded, 
and  had  fallen  into  the  enemy's  hands,  and  had  recently 
been  exchanged,  and  brought  up  by  steamers  from  City 
Point,  Va.  Many  of  them  had  been  confined  in  the 
wretched  Libby  Prison  and  were  filthy  and  almost 
starved.  They  had,  however,  begun  to  improve  as  soon 
as  they  arrived  north,  and  were  placed  under  healthy 
and  more  favorable  surroundings.  A  great  deal  has 
been  said  about  these  cases  by  the  different  civil  com 
missions,  who  were  often  disposed  to  find  fault  unjustly 
with  the  medical  department  of  the  army,  and  to  arrogate 
to  themselves  credit  to  which  they  were  not  entitled. 
In  the  latter  part  of  the  month  of  February,  I  was 
again  sent  down  to  Annapolis  on  the  same  errand,  and 
found  that  proper  and  satisfactory  arrangements  had 

*  ORDER. 

"Surg.  Genl.  Office, 

Washington,  February  4,  1862. 
SIR: 

Reliable  information  has  been  received  at  this  office  that  hospital 
gangrene  is  prevailing  to  a  considerable  extent  at  the  Genl.  Hospt. 
at  Annapolis,  Md.  You  will,  on  this,  immediately  proceed  to  that 
city,  and  inquire  into  the  origin  of  the  affection  in  question,  and  the 
means  which  have  been  adopted  for  its  treatment,  and  for  checking 
its  progress,  making  in  your  report  such  suggestions  as  may  seem 
proper.  You  will  confer  with  the  Surgeon  in  charge  on  these 
points.  You  are  hereby  authorized  to  call  upon  the  Surgeon  in 
charge  for  such  present  and  future  reports,  as  in  your  opinion  may 
tend  to  elucidate  the  whole  subject.  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 
Very  respfty, 

W.  A.  Hammond, 

Surgn.  Genl. 

To   Surgeon  J.   H.  Brinton,   U.   S.  V. 
Washington,  D.  C." 


Varied  Labors  227 

been  made  for  all  hospital  gangrene  cases,  which  were 
doing  well. 

On  March  28,  1863,  I  received  an  order  to  investigate 
hospital  gangrene  in  Louisville  and  Nashville.  I  im 
mediately  started  for  Louisville,  and  on  arriving  there 
on  the  evening  of  April  2nd,  I  went  to  the  Gait  House, 
a  hotel  filled  to  overflowing  with  officers  and  military 
personages.  I  then  called  upon  Dr.  Middleton  Gold 
smith  and  found  him  to  be  a  man  of  extraordinary 
attainments  and  energy.  He  had  at  that  time  many 
cases  of  hospital  gangrene  under  his  care.  The  hospital 
impressed  me  most  favorably.  It  was  very  large  and 
seemed  to  be  managed  in  an  original  manner,  and  to 
be  replete  with  all  kinds  of  ingenious  devices.  I  was 
particularly  struck  with  the  manner  of  making  coffee. 
The  water  percolated  through  a  series  of  large  tanks, 
the  first  one  being  placed  near  the  ceiling,  and  the  last 
one  on  the  floor.  The  entire  strength  of  the  coffee  was 
by  these  means  extracted,  and  none  was  wasted.  Dr. 
Goldsmith  was,  I  believe,  the  first  who  used  bromine 
in  the  treatment  of  hospital  gangrene,  and  sloughing 
sores.  Its  effect,  when  thoroughly  applied,  seemed  to 
me  at  the  time  almost  marvellous.  It  acted  locally 
to  check  the  spreading  gangrene,  and  the  constitutional 
symptoms  at  once  underwent  a  change  for  the  better. 
I  saw  one  case  of  a  man  with  hospital  gangrene,  extend 
ing  on  the  right  leg  from  the  hip  to  the  ankle,  the 
tissues  having  been  eaten  away  to  great  depth.  The 
man  was  etherized,  and  the  bromine  (pure)  most  thor 
oughly  applied,  and  rubbed  into  every  point.  His  con 
stitutional  state  was  very  low,  and  he  seemed  very 
feeble.  On  the  morrow  when  I  saw  him,  he  was 
propped  up  in  bed  in  a  semi-sitting  posture,  and  pre 
sented  a  marvellous  change.  He  was  in  good  spirits 


228  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

and  hopeful,  his  only  complaint  was  that  he  had  not 
had  enough  to  eat  at  breakfast. 

The  victims  of  this  disease  were  horrible  creatures 
to  look  at.  Starvation,  disease  and  exposure  had  done 
their  worst,  and  contributed  to  the  development  of  this 
horrid  hospital  gangrene, — the  "pourriture  de  1'hos- 
pital"  so  familiar  to  Larrey,  and  so  well  described  by 
Hennen,  in  his  account  of  the  Peninsular  War,  and 
which  was  especially  observed  at  the  siege  of  Badajos. 
The  cases  of  gangrene  at  Louisville  resembled  strongly 
those  which  I  had  seen  at  Annapolis,  Md.,  only  they 
seemed  to  be  worse;  they  probably  had  been  exposed 
more  in  the  prison  pens  of  the  South,  and  had  been 
subjected  to  a  prolonged  land  transportation. 

At  Louisville,  Dr.  Goldsmith  was  very  kind  to  me, 
and  took  me  around  to  see  every  person  and  everything 
to  be  seen,  and  thus  my  stay  in  Louisville  was  made  very 
pleasant.  After  remaining  a  few  days  in  this  city,  and 
after  having  fully  inspected  the  gangrene  cases,  I  de 
termined  in  virtue  of  my  discretionary  orders,  to  go  to 
Nashville,  and  examine  the  condition  of  affairs  there. 
The  Louisville  and  Nashville  Railroad  was  at  that  time 
a  military  road.  It  was  strongly  guarded  by  troops  at 
intervals  of  a  few  miles,  but  it  was  at  all  times  exposed 
to  guerrilla  incursions;  it  was  passable  but  not  safe. 
Nashville  itself  was  thoroughly  garrisoned. 

I  made  my  start  accordingly  on  a  fine  morning,  but 
had  a  narrow  escape  on  my  way.  I  was  standing  on 
the  rear  platform  of  a  car,  smoking,  when  suddenly  I 
observed  the  car  behind,  which  was  coupled  to  that  on 
which  I  stood,  jumping  from  side  to  side  in  a  strange 
manner.  Instinctively,  I  backed  against  the  car  door, 
and  staggered  within ;  as  I  did  so  the  platform  of  my 
car  disappeared  and  with  the  rear  car  attached  to  it, 


Varied  Labors  229 

rolled  down  the  bank.  I  pulled  the  bell  rope,  the  train 
stopped  and  slowly  backed  to  the  place  of  the  accident. 
We  then  found  that  the  car  at  fault  had  jumped  the 
track  at  a  cattle  guard  (a  sort  of  gridiron  of  logs  at 
road  crossings  to  keep  cattle  off  the  track)  had  rolled 
down  the  embankment,  and  was  lying  wheels  upward 
on  the  slope.  Most  of  the  passengers  (military)  had 
been  thrown  out  and  scattered  around.  One  of  these, 
Surgeon  James  Bryant,  U.  S.  Vols.,  occupied  a  very 
peculiar  position.  He  was  apparently  planted  head 
downwards  in  the  dirt  of  the  embankment,  and  there 
he  stayed.  I  will  not  say  stood,  for  his  heels  were 
upright  in  the  air,  a  sort  of  inverted  pillar,  unconscious, 
or  at  all  events,  greatly  dazed.  Fortunately  when  they 
picked  him  up  he  was  found  not  to  be  very  seriously 
hurt. 

I  ran  back  on  the  train  to  Louisville,  with  one  or  two 
of  the  injured,  and  on  the  next  train  started  again  for 
Nashville.  Morgan,  or  some  other  guerilla  leader, 
threatened  the  road  at  this  time,  and  made  travelling 
somewhat  precarious.  As  we  went  down,  we  learned 
at  one  station  (I  think  it  was  a  place  called  Elizabeth), 
that  a  band  of  guerillas  had  just  passed,  pushing  on  to 
a  point  three  or  four  miles  ahead  to  a  place  or  road 
crossing,  eminently  eligible  for  ambushing  and  stopping 
a  train,  and  that  our  train  was  their  object.  So  it  was 
a  race  for  this  point.  We  put  on  all  speed,  and  passed 
the  critical  road  crossing  as  the  band  of  mounted 
irregulars  appeared  on  the  road  over  the  top  of  the 
hills.  The  railroad  speed  was  good,  faster  than  I  would 
care  to  travel  often. 

As  I  approached  the  bridge  at  Nashville  over  the 
Cumberland  River,  it  presented  a  very  military  appear 
ance,  heavily  stockaded,  looped  for  musketry,  and  pro- 


230  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

vided  with  cannon  in  embrasures.  Arrived  in  the  city, 
I  went  to  the  prominent  hotel,  and  spent  the  succeeding 
two  days  in  visiting  the  hospitals  and  carrying  out  my 
instructions.  I  was  kindly  taken  care  of  by  Surgeon 
Thurston,  U.  S.  Vols.  Nashville  at  this  time  as  a  garri 
son  town  presented  a  busy  appearance,  contrasting 
strongly  with  the  same  town,  as  I  had  seen  it  on  the 
first  day  of  its  occupancy  by  General  Nelson,  when  I 
had  gone  up  with  General  Grant  after  the  capture  of 
Fort  Donelson.  Then,  it  seemed  a  deserted  city,  all 
doors  were  closed  and  windows  barred,  shops  were  shut 
and  scarcely  anyone  was  in  the  streets.  Fear  was  every 
where,  and  it  seemed  as  if  those  in  town  sat  in  dread 
of  an  expected  massacre.  While  at  Nashville,  I  took 
the  opportunity  of  going  down  to  Murfreesboro.  Here 
a  battle  had  been  fought  about  January  i,  1863,  Gen 
eral  Rosecrans  commanding  the  Union  forces.  The 
fight  is  known  as  the  battle  of  Stone  River,  and  the 
Union  success  (or  rather  the  salvation  of  the  army), 
was  in  some  measure  owing  to  the  good  conduct  of  the 
forces  under  General  Sheridan.  In  passing  along  the 
street  of  the  town,  I  met  Sheridan,  whom  I  had  not 
seen  since  I  left  him  at  camp  at  general  headquarters 
before  Corinth  in  1862.  He  was  then  only  a  Captain 
in  the  quartermaster's  department,  but  now,  when  I 
met  him  at  Murfreesboro,  he  had  achieved  the  rank  of 
Brigadier-General,  with  a  favorable  and  spreading  repu 
tation.  He  was  very  kind  in  manner  to  me,  and  I  was 
glad  to  have  seen  him.  At  this  time,  at  our  meeting  in 
Murfreesboro,  General  Sheridan,  speaking  of  himself, 
said  to  me,  "Doctor,  a  pretty  rapid  rise,  isn't  it  ?  Three 
(or  four)  from  a  Captain,  to  a  Brigadier-General,  and 
I  mean  to  deserve  it,  too." 

About  the  I2th  of  April  I  reached  Washington,  hav- 


Varied  Labors  231 

ing  returned  by  way  of  Philadelphia,  of  course.  After 
making  my  report  of  my  trip,  and  of  hospital  gangrene, 
and  its  treatment  in  the  West  by  bromine,  I  busied 
myself  with  my  office  duties  until  the  early  part  of 
May,  when  I  received  an  order  to  proceed  to  the  head 
quarters  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  report  to 
Surgeon  Letterman,  for  special  duty  connected  with 
pathological  specimens,  and  thereafter  to  return  to  my 
duties  in  Washington. 

So  on  the  5th  of  May  I  left  with  my  hospital  stew 
ards.  Stanch  was  a  German  water-color  painter.  He 
had  enlisted,  tempted  by  the  bounty,  or  to  avoid  the 
draft,  and  had  immediately  been  detailed  on  this  special 
duty  as  water  colorist  at  the  Surgeon-General's  office. 
Schafhirt  was  the  bone  artist,  the  son  of  Schafhirt  who 
prepared  the  specimens  at  the  Museum,  and  who  had 
originally  been  an  assistant  or  workman  in  the  dissect 
ing  room  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  Stanch's 
duty  was  to  paint  sketches  of  such  wounds  and  in 
juries  as  I  might  indicate,  while  Schafhirt  was  to  assist 
me  in  the  collection  of  specimens  for  the  Army  Museum, 
that  is,  to  bring  away  the  bones  fractured  by  gunshot, 
or  cannon  projectiles,  mostly  obtained  from  the  am 
putated  limbs,  which  accumulated  at  the  operating-tables 
in  the  various  hospitals,  general,  division,  corps  or  field, 
which  I  might  visit. 

At  first  I  had  experienced  much  difficulty  in  obtaining 
the  necessary  permission  from  surgeons,  but  by  this  time 
they  had  become  interested,  and  were  anxious  to  fur 
nish  all  they  could  to  the  national  collection.  As  the 
preparations  were  finished,  or  rather  the  limbs,  etc.,  I 
had  them  roughly  cleaned  (most  often  I  was  obliged  to 
do  this  myself),  and  then  I  had  them  placed  in  barrels, 


232  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

with  liquor,  and  so  sent  or  took  them  with  me  to  Wash 
ington. 

Before  I  left,  rumors  of  a  decided  victory  for  the 
Union  army  had  been  rife  in  Washington.  On  the  boat 
to  Acquia  Creek,  I  met  and  traveled  with  my  old  friend, 
Dr.  Thomson,  then  Assistant  Surgeon.  We  noticed  as 
we  approached  Acquia  Creek,  the  depot  of  the  railroad 
and  the  camp  in  Fredericksburg,  that  all  the  indications 
were  that  our  army  had  suffered  reverses.  On  the  same 
train  with  us  were  the  President,  Mr.  Lincoln ;  and  Gen 
eral  Halleck,  the  General  Chief  of  the  Army.  My  im 
pression  was  that  they  were  in  an  empty  baggage  car  in 
which  two  wooden  chairs  had  been  placed  for  them. 
This  visit  was  unexpected  and  they  were  on  their  way  to 
headquarters  to  see  for  themselves  what  had  happened. 
They  were  provided  with  a  special  ambulance  from  the 
station,  and  started  campward.  Dr.  Thomson  and  I  also 
went  up  in  an  ambulance  of  the  Medical  Department. 
The  distance,  only  a  mile  or  so,  was  soon  passed  over, 
but  we  arrived  long  before  the  great  dignitaries.  When 
they  did  get  out,  Mr.  Lincoln's  tall  silk  hat  was  creased 
by  knocking  against  the  top  of  the  vehicle  as  if  he  had 
sat  upon  it.  Their  delay  was  caused  by  having  been 
brought  by  a  much  longer  wagon  route,  so  as  to  furnish 
time  for  some  slight  moral  cleansing  of  the  headquarters' 
camp — at  least,  so  we  were  told. 

The  battle  of  Chancellorsville  had  been  fought  and  the 
Union  Army  had  again  retreated  to  the  Falmouth  side 
of  the  river.  We,  in  other  words,  had  suffered  a  defeat, 
but  the  enemy  had  sustained  an  irreparable  loss  in  the 
death  of  Stonewall  Jackson,  who  was  wounded  on  the 
2nd  of  May  and  died  about  a  week  afterward.  I  think 
he  was  their  ablest  general  and,  with  his  fall,  fell  the 
Southern  cause. 


Varied  Labors  233 

Having  finished  my  work  at  the  hospitals  and  having 
collected  what  specimens  I  could  and  seen  what  surgery 
I  was  able,  I  returned  to  Washington,  leaving  my  men 
to  do  some  further  work.  The  impression  on  my  mind 
was  that  Chancellorsville  was  a  disaster  to  us  and  that 
Hooker  was  hardly  able  to  conduct  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  on  a  successful  career.  I  ought  to  say  here 
that  Jackson's  wounds  and  expected  death  seemed  to 
cause  no  elation  in  our  army.  All  recognized  how 
dangerous  an  enemy  he  was,  how  honorable  and  brave, 
how  swift  in  his  movements,  how  hard  a  striker,  in 
fact,  how  great  a  military  genius.  Yet  with  all  this, 
the  feeling  of  the  Northern  army  was  one  of  pity,  I 
might  also  say  of  regret,  that  so  great  a  soldier  was 
passing  away. 

At  Washington  I  busied  myself  with  my  office  work 
until  the  2ist  of  May,  1863,  when  I  received  the  fol 
lowing  order: 

"S.  G.  O.  Washington,  D.  C. 

May  21,  1863. 
Sir:— 

You  will  proceed  immediately  to  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  and  visit  the  different  Corps  of  hospitals  on 
special  duty  connected  with  the  collection  of  pathological 
specimens.  Having  accomplished  this,  you  will  return 
to  this  city,  and  resume  your  present  duties. 

Very  respfy.  yr.  Obt.  Servt. 

By  order  of  the  Surgeon  General, 

Jos.  R.  Smith, 
Surgeon,  U.  S.  A. 

Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  V., 
Washington,  D.  C." 


234  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

On  the  back  of  this  order,  I  have  pencilled,  "Order 
in  reality  to  ascertain  the  number  of  casualties  at 
Chancellorsville  which  had  been  concealed,"  and  this 
endorsement  tells  the  truth,  which  I  will  here  explain. 
Chancellorsville,  as  we  all  know,  was  not  a  success,  and 
was  attended  with  a  frightful,  and  at  the  date  of  this 
order,  an  unknown  loss,  or  at  all  events,  a  loss  which 
had  not  yet  become  known  at  Washington,  and  it  was 
said  that  General  Hooker,  in  command  of  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac,  had  given  orders,  or  let  me  say,  had  in 
structed  all  chiefs,  to  wit,  the  Chief  Quartermaster,  the 
Chief  Commissary  of  Subsistence,  and  the  Medical 
Director,  to  withhold  from  Washington  all  reports  or  in 
formation  which  would  tend  to  disclose  the  Chancellors 
ville  loss.  But  the  nation,  and  the  press,  and  the  Secre 
tary  of  War,  Mr.  Stanton,  wished  to  know  the  loss  as 
accurately  as  it  could  be  computed  or  ascertained.  The 
Secretary  of  War  therefore  desired  that  an  officer  should 
be  sent  from  the  Surgeon-General's  office,  who  should 
as  far  as  possible  obtain  this  information,  and  I  was 
detailed  for  this  duty,  under  the  foregoing  fictitious 
order,  with  full  verbal  instructions. 

It  so  happened  that  Surgeon  Letterman,  the  Medical 
Director  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  had  at  this 
time  come  up  to  Washington,  and  on  this  very  evening 
on  which  I  was  to  start,  was  dining  with  Surgeon-Gen 
eral  Hammond  in  H  Street.  Hearing  this,  and  thinking 
that  the  information  desired  could  be  readily  procured 
from  him,  I  called  at  (Doctor)  General  Hammond's 
and  sent  up  a  note  with  my  card,  asking  if  under  the 
circumstances  of  the  Medical  Director  being  in  Washing 
ton  then  and  there,  I  should  still  start  for  the  army  in 
the  field  to  "collect  pathological  specimens."  Dr.  Ham 
mond  scribbled  on  the  paper  for  me  to  start  at  once, 


Varied  Labors  235 

and  to  collect  all  the  specimens  I  could,  "as  he  could 
collect  none  from  the  Medical  Director." 

I  understood,  and  immediately  took  boat  to  Acquia 
Creek,  and  procuring  there  a  sorry  old  sorrel  horse, 
started  the  following  day  for  the  army  headquarters, 
stopping  at  Potomac  Creek,  and  at  all  the  general  and 
corps  hospitals,  etc.,  where  the  wounded  had  been  car 
ried,  or  where  information  concerning  them  would 
accumulate.  /I  thus  made  a  very  complete  search,  and 
obtained  data  which,  taken  with  the  memoranda  of  the 
transporting  officers,  by  railroad  and  boat,  would  give 
a  closely  approximate  number  of  the  bulk  of  wounded. 
In  battles  of  the  same  general  magnitude  and  descrip 
tion,  the  ratio  of  killed  to  wounded  is  always  about  the 
same,  say  one  to  every  four  or  five  wounded,  accord 
ing  to  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  the  action, 
whether  fought  in  the  open,  or  under  cover,  etc.  This, 
the  military  statistican  easily  learns,  and  with  fixed 
ratios  can  readily  guess  closely  at  the  number  of 
wounded,  dead,  and  missing,  and  thus  at  a  general  loss, 
as  well  as  at  the  number  of  men  engaged,  on  one  or 
both  sides.  Indeed,  I  may  go  further,  and  assert,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  that  given  a  correct  statement  of  any 
one  class  of  wounds,  say  of  the  arm,  or  body  or  leg, 
the  major  facts  of  losses,  and  the  forces  of  the 
combatants  may  be  figured  out,  providing  the  statistics 
are  not  French,  in  which  wounds  of  the  back  are  given 
at  a  suspicious  minimum,  with  a  relative  high  ratio  of 
anterior  wounds. 

As  a  fact,  I  was  able  to  report  the  loss  of  our  forces 
at  Chancellorsville  at  about  23,000.  J 


CHAPTER  XIX 

GETTYSBURG 

After  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  matters  remained 
stationary  with  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  It  was  "all 
quiet  along  the  Potomac."  In  the  latter  part  of  May 
and  early  part  of  June,  however,  it  became  evident  that 
General  Lee  was  preparing  to  move.  At  Washington, 
rumors  to  this  effect  were  abroad.  One  cannot  tell 
how  such  rumors  arise  or  become  known.  They  always 
did,  however,  and  no  matter  what  secrecy  was  observed, 
a  note  of  premonition  would  sound  in  Washington. 
Perhaps  it  would  arise  from  among  the  Southern  sym 
pathizers  at  the  capital,  and  perhaps  then  gossip  would 
take  wings,  and  the  cackle  of  the  Southern  wives  of 
Northern  or  loyal  men  or  officers  would  assume  a  shape. 
At  all  events,  it  became  an  open  secret  that  an  invasion 
of  the  North  would  be  attempted. 

Just  before  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  a  number  of 
officers  of  the  English  army,  stationed  in  Quebec,  I 
think,  visited  Washington  on  a  professional  military 
trip  to  see  the  American  mode  of  warfare.  They  be 
longed  to  the  Scots  Fusiliers.  I  was  detailed  to  show 
them  the  workings  of  our  Medical  Department,  and 
enjoyed  that  duty  greatly.  One  of  them  was  named 
Moncrieff.  I  paid  them  every  attention  I  could,  and 
when  they  returned  to  Canada,  I  sent  them  a  keg  of 
Virginia  tobacco,  a  courtesy  which  they  returned  by  for 
warding  me  a  number  of  British  blue  books.  They  had 

236 


Gettysburg  237 

some  doubt  of  American  valor,  but  meeting  one  of  them 
after  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg,  he  told  me  that  he  had 
seen  quite  enough  of  our  fighting,  for  he  had  looked  on 
from  a  hilltop  at  Pickett's  charge,  and  had  seen  the 
brigade  advance  and  retire.  In  fact,  I  heard  it  said 
that  at  one  time  in  the  cannonade  near  Meade's  head 
quarters,  they  were  not  unwilling  to  stand  behind  a 
stone  chimney,  which,  as  it  was  not  "their  funeral," 
was  quite  the  proper  thing  to  do.  I  found  these  officers 
to  be  well  educated,  intelligent,  fine  fellows. 

During  the  march  of  the  Southern  forces  north,  I 
was  in  Washington  at  my  office  work,  fitting  up  the 
Museum,  and  serving  on  this  board  and  that — a  general 
utility  person  in  the  office. 

The  movement  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia 
northwards  towards  and  into  Pennsylvania  created  a 
very  great  excitement  and  fear.  Everything  was  un 
certain,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  divine  the  object  of  the 
enemy,  nor  to  foretell  how  far  he  would  go.  There  was 
a  general  feeling  of  doubt  as  to  the  ability  of  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  to  overtake  him  or  to  stop  his  progress. 
In  Washington  little  that  was  certain  was  known;  all 
was  rumor  and  vague  rumor.  One  thing,  however,  was 
certain, — the  enemy  had  captured  Chambersburg,  York, 
Carlisle,  and  even  threatened  Harrisburg  itself.  The 
Army  of  the  Potomac  was  doing  its  best,  but  it  was  not 
supposed  at  that  moment  to  be  in  a  very  efficient  con 
dition,  and  the  community  in  general  had  not  a  very 
strong  faith  in  the  capability  of  its  leaders. 

Philadelphia  was  in  a  great  state  of  alarm.  That 
city  was  supposed  to  be  the  objective  point  of  the  enemy. 
Its  wealth,  resources,  and  accumulation  of  manufactures 
and  supplies  marked  it  as  a  most  valuable  prize  to  the 
Confederates.  Its  capture  would  enrich  them,  would 


238  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

furnish  their  army  with  food  and  supplies,  would  inter 
rupt  the  mails,  transit  and  transportation.  Unless  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  could  reach  and  bar  the  progress 
of  the  Southern  force,  it  really  did  not  seem  as  if  the 
occupation  of  Philadelphia  could  be  prevented.  The 
enemy  were  almost  at  Harrisburg.  Viewed  from  my 
standpoint  at  Washington,  the  occupation  of  Phila 
delphia  seemed  quite  possible.  To  my  mind,  however, 
I  believed  that  Lee  would  scarcely  leave  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac  behind  him,  and  that  he  would  more  likely 
fight  near  Harrisburg,  and  give  us  the  chance,  the  only 
chance  of  salvation.  Under  the  same  circumstances, 
Grant  would  have  struck  for  Philadelphia.  It  requires 
a  great  man,  a  great  soldier,  to  depart  from  conven 
tional  rule,  and  by  audacity  to  win  success.  The  high 
est  military  ability  is  shown  in  the  power  to  conduct 
an  offensive  campaign.  Defensive  generals,  if  I  may 
use  such  an  expression,  are  many  in  number;  they  are 
the  outcome  of  the  schools.  Offensive  generals,  on  the 
contrary,  are  very  scarce;  the  world's  history  shows  but 
few  in  a  century,  and  each  one  of  them  is  a  genius, 
governed  by  his  own  laws.  That  cause  which  is  upheld 
by  the  greatest  offensive  talent  will,  cctcris  paribus, 
dominate,  and,  in  the  long  run,  win.  The  South  had 
two  offensive  generals,  Stonewall  Jackson  and  Joseph 
E.  Johnston;  possibly  Longstreet  might  be  added  to  the 
list.  Of  these  the  first  was  killed;  the  second  from 
official  distrust  or  envy,  was  trammelled  and  suppressed. 
The  third  was  a  lesser  light.  The  North  had  Grant, 
Sheridan  and  Sherman.  The  balance  of  offensive  mili 
tary  power  was  in  their  favor. 

I  have  not  yet  spoken  of  General  Lee  or  General 
McClellan.  I  regard  them  both  as  grand  examples  of 
defensive  soldiers.  The  defensive  warfare  of  both  was 


Gettysburg  239 

as  perfect  as  the  circumstances  would  allow.  When  they 
undertook  offensive  campaigns,  or  when  offensive  opera 
tions  were  forced  upon  them,  it  was  evident  that  some 
idea  of  defense  was  always  in  their  mind,  latent,  and 
unrecognized,  perhaps,  but  still  there.  With  Grant,  it 
was  different,  his  whole  notion  was  offense,  and  his 
idea  of  strategy  was  to  push  on  and  attack  the  enemy. 
He  thought  little  or  nothing  of  his  rear;  that  could  or 
must  take  care  of  itself;  his  endeavor  was  to  keep  his 
opponent  busy  by  his  repeated  blows  in  front.  The 
worst  part  of  General  Grant's  command  was  in  the 
rear;  his  most  solid,  compact  and  efficient  was  his  front. 

Before  the  war  broke  out,  I  had  done  a  good  deal  of 
reading  on  military  matters,  the  history  of  Napoleon's 
wars  and  Marlborough's,  and  Cromwell's  campaigns, 
etc.  Among  other  books,  I  had  dabbled  in  Jomini's 
volumes  on  the  Art  of  War,  and  I  remember  on  one 
occasion  when  I  was  with  Grant  on  the  Tennessee  River, 
asking  him  what  he  thought  of  Jomini.  "Doctor,"  he 
said,  "I  have  never  read  it  carefully;  the  art  of  war  is 
simple  enough;  find  out  where  your  enemy  is,  get  at 
him  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  strike  him  as  hard  as  you 
can,  and  keep  moving  on."  When  I  asked  him  at  Fort 
Donelson  what  was  to  prevent  the  enemy  from  attack 
ing  and  capturing  his  rear,  he  replied,  "He  is  not  think 
ing  of  that,  we'll  keep  the  front  busy." 

When  Philadelphia  was  threatened,  and  as  soon  as  I 
became  convinced  that  its  occupation  was  possible,  if 
not  probable,  I  became  greatly  disturbed  about  the  wel 
fare  of  my  Mother  and  sisters,  and  the  safety  of  our 
home.  All  of  my  letters  to  my  mother  at  that  time  are 
filled  with  advice  what  to  do.  I  counselled  her  to  draw 
money  out  of  the  bank,  and  then  as  soon  as  Harrisburg 
should  be  occupied,  or  our  own  city  otherwise  threat- 


240  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

ened,  to  go  north  to  the  White  Mountains,  taking  with 
her  in  separate  trunks  our  important  papers,  such  as  the 
estate  books,  and  a  number  of  unrecorded  deeds  of  old 
lots,  and  our  title  papers  generally,  and  our  index  of 
deeds,  etc.  Then,  whatever  happened,  we  would  be 
comparatively  safe;  we  would  have  our  deeds,  and  the 
land  could  not  be  burned  or  destroyed. 

As  it  happened,  the  immediate  necessity  of  the  family 
hurrying  away  did  not  arise;  our  city  was  not  cap 
tured,  and  our  records  lay  in  their  accustomed  dust  safely 
through  the  eventful  summer  of  1863. 

Immediately  after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  I  was 
ordered  by  the  Surgeon-General  to  go  there  on  special 
duty.  There  was,  then,  two  or  three  days  after  the 
fight,  some  difficulty  in  reaching  Gettysburg  from  the 
south,  the  Washington  side.  The  railroad  had  been 
cut  in  a  good  many  places,  and  the  enemy  was  retreat 
ing  across  the  Maryland  line  in  the  direction  of  the 
Potomac.  There  was  much  delay,  and  the  transporta 
tion  was  rough.  I  remember  going,  I  think,  from  Han 
over  Junction,  in  the  night,  in  a  box-car,  in  which  were 
one  or  two  horses  loose,  untied.  I  slept  in  the  straw 
on  the  floor  perfectly  safe.  It  was  wonderful  to  see 
the  instinct  of  the  poor  brutes.  How  careful  they  were 
of  their  feet,  and  how  they  seemed  to  try  not  to  tread 
on  anyone,  or  injure  them  with  their  hoofs.  And  here, 
by  the  way,  I  may  say  that  the  horse  has  the  greatest 
dread  of  the  prone  human  figure.  You  cannot  make 
him  tread  on  the  body  of  a  man,  or  upon  that  of  a 
dead  horse  or  mule.  I  have  tried  to  make  a  horse  do 
this,  by  the  spur  at  Jefferson  City,  Mo.,  in  1864,  but 
have  never  succeeded.  He  will  shy  off  fiercely  and 
widely,  and  if  forcibly  and  persistently  spurred  on,  he 
will  leap  the  dreaded  object.  The  inanimate  prone  body, 


Gettysburg  241 

he  appears  to  hold  in  more  horror  than  the  living,  but 
it  may  be  said  that  he  will  not  approach  these,  if  he 
can  get  around  them.  A  cavalry  major,  serving  in  the 
West,  once  told  me  that  on  one  occasion,  just  prior 
to  entering  action,  he  was  riding  with  one  or  two 
squadrons  rapidly  down  a  narrow  lane,  being  about  to 
debouch  in  the  open,  when  his  horse  tumbled  or  fell, 
throwing  him  to  the  ground  in  the  very  roadbed  of 
the  lane.  To  him,  death  seemed  inevitable,  for  he 
thought  he  would  be  crushed  and  trodden  by  the  horses' 
feet.  He  closed  his  eyes  in  horror,  when  after  a  few 
seconds,  finding  that  he  continued  unhurt,  he  opened  his 
eyes  and  saw  to  his  amazement  that  each  horse  on  ap 
proaching  him  at  full  speed,  deliberately  and  dexterously 
jumped,  so  as  to  clear  him,  and  leave  him  unharmed. 
The  entire  force  thus  passed  over  him,  the  only  injury 
he  received  being  a  slight  scratch  on  the  hand,  owing 
to  an  involuntary  motion  he  made  during  one  of  the 
horse's  leaps.  This  peculiarity  of  the  horse  is  not  known 
to  everyone,  and  certainly  was  not  known  to  the  poet 
Campbell  when  he  wrote : 

"Their  hoof-beaten  bosoms  are  trod  to  the  plain!" 

In  this  box-car  going  from  Hanover  Junction,  I  met 
my  old  friend  Dr.  Ellerslie  Wallace,  in  search  of  the 
body  of  a  friend,  the  husband  of  a  connection  of  my 
own,  who  had  been  killed  in  the  battle.  Arrived  at 
Gettysburg,  I  found  quarters,  I  think,  at  the  Medical 
Purveyor's,  and  busied  myself  for  several  days  in  visit 
ing  the  hospitals  in  the  town,  in  the  churches  and  public 
buildings,  and  also  the  large  field  hospitals  which  had 
been  organized  outside  of  the  town.  These  hospitals 
were  generally  in  good  condition,  and  accommodated 


242  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  II.  Bnnton 

large  numbers  of  wounded.  A  good  many  of  the 
enemy's  wounded  were  gathered  into  one  hospital  under 
the  care  of  their  surgeons.  As  I  approached  this  hos 
pital,  operations  were  being  performed  at  the  operating 
tent  under  the  trees,  and  from  the  peculiar  manner  in 
which  the  amputating  knife  was  held,  I  recognized  one 
of  my  old  students.  He  was  about  to  amputate  a  limb, 
and  was  drawing  the  knife  in  the  peculiar  manner  which 
I  had  been  in  the  habit  of  teaching,  and  which  I  had 
been  taught  by  the  military  surgeon,  Dienstl,  in  the 
dissecting  and  operating  room  in  the  military  hospitals  at 
Vienna.  I  was  very  warmly  received  by  the  Confederate 
surgeon,  and  his  friends,  a  very  good  set  of  fellows, 
whom  I  was  glad  to  meet  with.  Professional  brother 
hood  is,  I  think,  the  strongest  bond  in  the  world,  and 
my  whole  experience  in  our  war  convinced  me  more 
and  more  of  this. 

In  my  rides  during  these  days,  I  had  ample  oppor 
tunities  of  seeing  the  field  of  battle,  and  of  forming  an 
idea  of  the  fierceness  of  the  struggle.  In  one  of  my 
rides  on  an  old  white  horse,  somewhere,  I  think  in  the 
direction  of  Cemetery  Hill,  I  tried  to  ride  across  a 
slough  or  marsh  of  soft  black  mud.  It  was  treacherous, 
and  my  horse  sank  slowly  and  steadily  until  his  legs  were 
buried  and  his  body  even  began  to  sink.  He  could  not 
in  spite  of  all  his  struggles  get  out,  and  I  began  to 
have  serious  apprehensions  as  to  the  outcome  for  horse 
and  man.  I  sank,  too,  but  fortunately  being  near  the 
shore,  I  scrambled  to  dry  and  firm  land,  and  by  pulling 
on  my  bridle,  managed  to  extricate  the  beast.  He  was 
a  white  horse  no  longer,  for  he  had  floundered  on  his 
side  and  looked  as  if  he  had  received  a  coat  of  tar. 
For  myself,  I  was  in  pitiable  plight;  nothing  was  left 
for  me  save  to  reach  my  quarters,  and  go  to  bed  while 


Gettysburg  243 

my  clothes  were  being  washed  and  cleaned  and  dried, 
for  I  had  no  others. 

The  town  of  Gettysburg  was  rilled  with  hospitals  and 
stores  for  the  wounded,  surgeons  and  their  assistants, 
who  were  coming  to  see  a  real  battle-ground,  newspaper 
men  in  abundance,  and  a  crowd  of  Sanitary  and  Christian 
Commissioners,  who  wandered  about  everywhere,  and 
kept  remarkably  good  tables  at  the  houses  which  they 
regarded  as  their  headquarters.  Crowds  of  citizens 
were  there  from  neighboring  country  and  town,  and 
many  from  Philadelphia.  Some  of  these  came  under 
pretext  of  seeing  friends,  but  many  more  drawn  by 
curiosity.  A  great  many  were  in  search  of  relics  or 
"trophies,"  as  they  called  them,  from  the  battlefield; 
shot,  shell,  bayonets,  guns,  and  every  sort  of  military 
portable  property.  The  gathering  and  taking  away  of 
such  objects  was  strictly  forbidden  by  military  proclama 
tion,  all  articles  being  regarded  as  belonging  for  the  time 
being  to  the  military  authorities  and  under  their  care. 
Finally,  it  was  decided  to  put  a  stop  to  this  "trophy" 
business.  Guards  were  instructed  to  arrest  purloiners, 
and  take  away  the  articles ;  but  even  this  did  not  answer, 
stolen  articles  were  concealed  in  the  clothes  and  pack 
ages.  The  Provost  Marshal  (whom  I  knew,  a  Captain 
Smith,  a  relative  of  General  Halleck's),  then  determined 
to  put  an  end  to  the  practice,  and  therefore  ordered  the 
arrest  and  detention  of  all  persons  found  with  contra 
band  articles  in  their  possession.  This  order  gave  much 
annoyance  to  visitors,  who  still  attempted  to  evade  it. 
So  the  Provost  Marshal  resorted  to  the  rather  sum 
mary  process  of  sending  delinquents,  or  those  disobey 
ing  his  orders,  out  to  the  field  of  battle,  to  assist  in 
burying  dead  horses, — not  a  pleasant  duty.  This  gave 
rise  to  trouble  at  once,  and  to  threats  of  exceeding 


244  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

fierceness.  I  saw  one  squad  about  to  start  on  march  for 
the  field,  five  or  six  miles  on  a  hot  July  morning, — in 
which  was  a  loquacious  gentleman,  of  portly  presence, 
who  had  been  caught  with  a  U.  S.  musket,  as  a  battle 
trophy,  in  his  hands;  deep  was  his  wrath  and  eloquent 
his  protest  and  fierce  his  threats  at  sending  him,  "a 
gentleman  and  a  member  of  the  legislature  of  this 
state"  to  do  such  disgusting  work.  He  promised  to 
have  all  concerned  in  issuing  the  orders  dismissed,  but 
he  had  to  make  the  march  all  the  same,  and  at  least 
go  through  the  formality  of  "burying  dead  horses." 

This  energetic  treatment  put  a  stop  to  the  practice 
of  looting  arms.  Whether  it  was  worth  the  trouble 
and  hard  feeling  excited,  I  hardly  know.  It  was  almost 
incredible,  however,  to  what  an  extent  this  trophy  mania 
had  spread.  One  farmer  near  the  field  absolutely  con 
cealed  a  six-pound  gun,  letting  it  down  into  his  well. 

The  battle-ground  occupied  the  farms  which  lay  be 
yond  the  town  for  miles.  A  good  many  of  the  farmers 
were  Germans, — I'm  afraid  of  a  low  type  and  mean, 
sordid  disposition.  Their  great  object  in  this  life, 
seemed  to  be  to  hoard  money,  and  their  behavior  to 
ward  our  troops  and  our  wounded  soldiers,  was  often 
mean  beyond  belief.  As  an  instance,  I  might  relate  this 
case.  As  I  was  riding  along  the  country  road,  I  met 
a  shabby  buggy  driven  by  a  mean-looking  German,  and 
carrying  two  wounded  soldiers.  Noticing  that  the  ban 
dage  on  one  of  them  was  too  tight,  and  had  caused 
much  swelling,  I  stopped  the  vehicle  and  learned  this 
story.  They  had  been  wounded  on  the  farm  (one  of 
considerable  size,  176  acres)  belonging  to  their  driver, 
the  owner  of  the  buggy.  They  had  been  there  for  a 
day  or  two  and  were  anxious  to  reach  the  field  hos 
pital  of  their  command,  some  distance.  They  could  not 


Gettysburg  245 

walk,  and  their  host  (if  such  a  term  can  be  used), 
finally  consented  to  take  them  to  the  hospital,  as  I 
saw  he  was  doing,  if  they  would  give  him  a  silver  watch, 
and  such  trifles  as  they  carried  on  their  person,  for 
pay.  I  wrote  a  little  note,  stating  the  facts,  and  directed 
them  all  to  the  Provost  Marshal's  guard,  not  far  behind 
me.  I  afterwards  had  the  satisfaction  of  learning  that 
the  horse  and  buggy  and  shabby  driver,  had  the  oppor 
tunity  of  affording  gratuitous  transportation  for  a  week 
to  the  sick  and  wounded  under  the  supervision  of  the 
Marshal's  Guard,  and  that  the  watch,  etc.,  were  returned 
to  their  original  owners.  I  could  only  hope  that  the 
lesson  of  forced  patriotism  would  prove  lasting. 

(As  usual  after  battles,  many  of  the  killed  were  buried 
in  trenches  or  pits}  One  of  my  men  on  this  occasion 
took  from  the  body  of  a  Southern  soldier,  a  breast  plate 
of  soft  steel,  in  two  halves,  intended  to  be  worn  under 
the  coat  or  vest.  One  ball  had  struck  it  and  indented 
or  bent  it  without  perforation.  Another,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  had  passed  through  in  the  region  of  the  liver, 
causing  the  death  of  the  wearer.  I  think  the  breast 
plate  bore  the  imprint  "Ames  Manufacturing  Company." 
This  cuirass  was  placed  in  the  Army  Museum,  and  I 
suppoie  is  there  now.  It  was  the  only  example  of  de 
fensive  armor  I  met  with  during  the  war.  * 

I  have  spoken  of  the  burials  en  masse.  Many  of  the 
bodies,  however,  were  buried  singly  where  it  was  pos 
sible.  In  visiting  the  hospitals  I  entered  one  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  town,  which  I  was  informed  was  much 
exposed  at  one  time  during  the  battle  of  the  crossfire 
of  the  respective  sharp  shooters,  or  outlying  pickets  of 
the  two  armies.  In  the  churchyard,  at  one  corner  of 
the  church  building,  I  observed  a  number  of  new  made 
graves,  arranged  with  the  greatest  precision,  each  one 


246  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

of  them  being  provided  with  a  head  board  and  foot 
board,  made  of  shingles,  the  former  bearing  the  name, 
rank,  company  and  regiment  of  the  man  beneath.  The 
head  boards  were  exactly  alike,  the  lines  for  the  in 
scription  and  the  styles  for  the  lettering  being  alike  in 
all  cases.  These  men,  I  was  told,  were  buried  at  a 
time  when  the  hospital  was  directly  in  the  line  of  cross 
fire  on  both  sides,  and  the  sepulture  was  directed  by  a 
medical  officer.  Struck  with  the  remarkable  adherence, 
in  all  these  cases,  to  the  regulations  and  customs  of  the 
army  service,  I  inquired  of  the  hospital  steward,  my 
informant,  "Was  this  medical  officer  tall  and  thin,  in 
exact  uniform,  and  did  he  expose  himself  during  the 
burial/'  "Yes,  sir,  and  he  read  the  service  for  the  dead, 
the  burial  service  over  them?"  "Was  his  name  Bache?" 
I  asked,  feeling  instinctively  that  such  military  rigidity 
could  only  be  found  in  that  family.  "Yes,  sir," — and 
then  I  knew  that  my  old  friend,  Surgeon  Thos.  H. 
Bache,  U.  S.  Vols.  must  be  the  officer  indicated, — and 
it  was  so.  The  Army  Regulations  had  been  scrupulously 

rnplied  with. 
Dur  loss  at  Gettysburg  was  heavy  but  as  the  battle 
was  fought  on  our  land,  and  as  we  remained  masters 
of  the  field,  we  had  every  opportunity  for  the  care  of 
the  wounded  in  large  hospitals,  and  for  their  proper 
transportation.  'My  duty  at  this  time  was  twofold, 
first  to  render  what  help  I  could  surgically,  and  secondly, 
to  collect  specimens  and  histories  for  the  Museum,  y  I 
was  able  to  gather  much  for  the  Museum,  and  for  the 
most  part  the  medical  officers  were  anxious  to  further 
me  in  my  endeavors  to  carry  out  my  Washington  in 
structions.  By  the  i6th  or  I7th  of  July,  I  had  returned 
to  Washington,  and  resumed  my  office  duties. 


CHAPTER   XX 

OF    THINGS    MEDICAL    AND    MILITARY    AT    WASHINGTON 

I  spent  the  entire  summer  of  1863  at  Peter  Place  on 
Georgetown  Heights,  which  I  have  already  described. 
The  place,  beautiful  as  it  was,  with  the  remains  of  for 
mer  grandeur,  was  essentially  southern  in  its  tone.  The 
family  to  which  it  had  belonged,  were  all  in  the  southern 
service,  and  its  associations  and  surroundings  were  es 
pecially  "Secesh."  My  friend  Scull,  of  the  Subsistence 
Department,  and  I  had  rooms  in  an  outlying  building, 
which  I  rather  think  was  intended  for  the  domestics 
in  bygone  times. 

I  will  not  say  that  we  boarded  at  Peter  Place. 
"Boarder"  is  almost  a  vulgar  word,  not  in  consonance 
with  the  stateliness  of  the  Mansion;  we  simply  slept 
there  in  the  aforesaid  wing,  and  "took  our  meals"  in 
the  dining-room  with  the  big  folding  windows  down  to 
the  ground,  looking  out  on  the  high  portico;  we  ate 
quietly  and  demurely,  not  talking  much,  never  alluding 
to  the  war  or  army,  or  battles  or  marches.  Uniform 
was  not  worn;  we  were  simply  citizens,  enjoying  the 
cool  air  of  Georgetown  Heights.  The  compensation 
was  managed  by  Scull,  who  prided  himself  on  his  deli 
cacy,  the  exact  amount  of  our  indebtedness  (in  clean 
notes)  being  placed  in  a  note  envelope,  with  the  com 
pliments  of  Majors  Scull  and  Brinton,  and  handed  to 
the  waiter.  An  equally  refined  acknowledgment  of  its 

247 


248  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

receipt  would  reach  us  the  next  day  by  the  black  Mer 
cury. 

With  all  its  formality  and  absurdities,  Peter  Place 
was  a  delightful  spot  on  these  summer  evenings,  and  I 
thoroughly  enjoyed  sitting  under  the  trees,  and  smoking 
a  pipe  or  cigar  after  dinner.  The  rides  around  George 
town,  too,  were  very  pretty.  General  Halleck  lived 
in  a  large  house,  not  very  far  from  where  I  was  stay 
ing.  He  used  to  walk  in  and  out  to  the  War  Department 
every  day.  I  often  met  him  and  exchanged  greetings, 
and  once  or  twice  walked  with  him,  but  he  was  not  very 
companionable  and  was  undoubtedly  an  overestimated 
man. 

In  the  latter  part  of  August,  1863,  I  served  again 
as  President  of  the  Army  Medical  Board,  for  the  ex 
amination  of  candidates  for  admission  into  the  corps 
of  Surgeons  of  Volunteers,  the  former  "Brigade  Sur 
geons."  This  was  the  same  board  on  which  I  had  served 
when  I  first  came  to  Washington.  As  I  have  explained, 
the  discharge  of  its  functions  was  a  somewhat  delicate 
one,  owing  to  the  fact  that  medical  officers  were  so  badly 
wanted,  and  that  pressure  would  be  brought  upon  the 
board  to  relax  its  standard  of  qualifications.  On  one 
occasion,  not  long  after  I  came  to  Washington  when 
I  was  the  presiding  officer  of  the  Board,  we  were  ex 
amining  a  curious  creature  from  Kansas,  who  was  an 
applicant  for  the  appointment  of  Brigade  Surgeon.  He 
was  a  man  of  more  than  middle  age,  apparently  self 
educated,  and  evidently  had  been  through  many  vicissi 
tudes  in  life.  At  that  time,  each  candidate  was  obliged 
to  file  a  short  written  autobiography,  and  his  began 
in  this  way:  "My  first  recollections  of  myself  are  that 
I  was  found  as  a  little  baby,  on  an  emigrant  trail  on 
the  prairie.  Since  that  time,  I  have  done  a  little  of  every- 


Tilings  Medical  and  Military  at  Washington  249 

thing.  My  qualifications  are  various.  I  can  do  almost 
anything,  from  scalping  an  Indian,  up  and  down.  I 
hope  if  I  know  enough,  that  you'll  pass  me,  gentlemen." 

This  person  was  a  friend  of  the  then  well  known  and 
eccentric  Senator  from  Kansas,  "Jim"  Lane,  who  did 
the  Board  the  honor  of  a  visit,  and  after  a  self  intro 
duction,  said  "I'm  Senator  Lane,  Jim  Lane  of  Kansas, 
and  I'm  interested  in  this  Board.  I've  a  friend  before 
it,  and  what  I  want  to  know  is  this,  are  you  a  passing 
Board  or  a  rejecting  Board?"  We  assured  him  we  would 
do  the  best  we  could  in  his  friend's  case,  and  fortunately 
we  were  able  to  act  up  to  his  wishes  without  strain  of 
conscience.  His  friend,  whose  knowledge  of  the  English 
language  and  spelling  was  undoubtedly  limited,  was 
nevertheless  singularly  well  up  in  the  practical  parts  of 
the  profession;  he  had  lived  all  his  life  in  the  West  and 
practiced  there,  and  so  he  passed  the  Board  with  a  recom 
mendation  to  the  Secretary  of  War  that  "he  be  assigned 
to  duty  in  Kansas."  He  really  proved  to  be  one  of  the 
most  practical  men  in  the  service. 

In  November  of  1863,  I  served  upon  a  Board  of 
Medical  Directors  to  consider  the  defects  of  the  ex 
isting  system  of  reports  of  sick  and  wounded,  and  to  de 
vise  some  means  for  a  more  efficient  and  accurate  sys 
tem  of  hospital  registration;  and  here  I  might  say  a 
few  words  on  the  defects  of  the  hospital  registers,  and 
on  the  difficulties  encountered  in  the  early  part  of  the 
war  in  obtaining  accurate  reports  and  accounts  of  the 
wounded. 

As  I  have  stated,  when  the  war  broke  out  the  only 
return  or  description  of  gunshot  wounds  was  that  un 
der  the  heading  of  "vulnus  scloperticum"  on  the  general 
sick  report,  furnished  by  the  medical  officers  on  duty 
in  every  command,  and  at  every  post  and  hospital,  and 


250  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  II.  Brinton 

which  were,  of  course,  entirely  vague  and  too  indefinite 
to  convey  any  accurate  intelligence  as  to  the  extent  and 
character  of  an  injury.  As  soon  as  I  was  assigned  to 
the  preparation  of  the  Surgical  History  of  the  War,  I 
tried  to  help  matters  by  subdividing  the  gunshot  wounds 
into  various  classifications ;  but  this  did  not  answer  much 
better,  as  duplication  was  apt  to  occur  from  the  con 
stant  removal  of  wounded  from  one  hospital  to  another, 
as  from  a  small  field  hospital  to  a  division  or  corps 
field  general  hospital,  and  thence  to  a  city  hospital,  and 
thence  perhaps  to  state  hospitals  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  patient's  home. 

Some  other  system  of  registration  and  report  was 
evidently  necessary.  At  Antietam  I  met  Deputy  Inspec 
tor  General  Muir,  of  the  British  Service,  whose  ex 
perience  with  sick  and  wounded  had  been  large.  I  told 
him  the  difficulties  we  labored  under  in  obtaining  ac 
curate  statistics.  He  then  suggested  to  me  the  adoption 
of  something  like  the  British  medical  descriptive  paper, 
a  blank  which  is  filled  up  when  the  wounded  man  comes 
under  treatment,  and  which  then  goes  with  him,  and 
accompanies  him  in  all  his  transportation,  and  which 
in  case  of  death  or  recovery  is  then  forwarded  to  the 
central  medical  bureau,  which  in  our  case  would  be  the 
Surgeon  General's  Office.  This  plan  seemed  feasible, 
and  it  was  determined  to  give  it  a  trial.  I  was  accord 
ingly  ordered  to  have  printed  100,000  of  these  medical 
descriptive  lists,  adapted  to  our  service.  These  were 
then  distributed,  and  Medical  Directors  were  requested 
to  endeavor  to  have  them  filled  up  by  the  medical  of 
ficers  at  hospitals  under  their  control.  Perfect  in  theory, 
and  well  adapted  for  wars  where  the  wounded  were 
comparatively  few,  and  the  medical  force  numerous, 
this  system  of  registration  of  sick  and  wounded  failed 


Things  Medical  and  Military  at  Washington  251 

utterly  with  us.  Our  medical  officers  were  overworked 
by  the  enormous  numbers  of  our  wounded,  and  the  ex 
igencies  of  the  time  demanded  a  too  continuous  and  rapid 
transportation  of  wounded  from  the  front  to  northern 
hospitals.  The  notice  of  transportation,  too,  was  too 
short;  at  all  events  this  system  did  not  work.  It  failed, 
and  in  consequence  a  Board  was  convened,  under  the 
following  order: 

"Surg.  Genl.  Office,  Washington  City,  D.  C. 
Nov.  6,  1863. 

A  Board  of  Officers  to  consist  of  Surgeons  J.  H.  Brin- 
ton,  J.  A.  Sidell,  U.  S.  V. ;  Assistant  Surgeons  Roberts 
Bartholow,  J.  J.  Woodward,  and  Wm.  Thomson, 
U.  S.  A.,  will  assemble  at  the  Surgeon  General's  Office 
on  Monday,  November  gth,  or  as  soon  thereafter  as 
practicable  to  consider  and  report  upon  proposed  modi 
fications,  in  registers  and  returns  for  sick  and  wounded, 
and  the  diet  table  prescribed  for  the  U.  S.  General  Hos 
pitals. 

By  order  Acting  Surgeon  General, 

(Signed)     "C.  H.  Crane," 

Surgeon,  U.  S.  A. 
Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  V. 
Surgeon  General's  Office." 

The  action  of  this  Board  was  the  adoption  of  the 
form  of  registers  which  continued  in  use  until  the  end 
of  the  war,  on  which  every  case  was  minutely  entered, 
in  whatever  hospital  the  man  might  be.  A  comparison 
of  the  registers  was  necessary  to  prevent  duplication,  and 
for  this  purpose  a  large  clerical  force  was  maintained 
in  the  Surgeon  General's  Office.  The  blanks  for  these 
reports  were  printed  in  Philadelphia  by  J.  B.  Lippincott 


252  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Erinton 

&  Co.,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  running  on  to  order 
them.  Dr.  John  Neill,  then  a  Surgeon,  U.  S.  V.,  had  the 
after-superintendence.  They  proved  a  success. 

Once  or  twice  during  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1863, 
I  had  the  opportunity  of  visiting  Philadelphia.  In  fact, 
Dr.  Hammond,  when  in  full  power,  had  told  me  that 
when  the  business  of  the  office  and  army  affairs  were 
not  very  demanding  or  urgent,  I  might  slip  on  to  Phila 
delphia,  and  stay  over  Sunday,  provided  I  would  be  in 
my  place  in  the  office  by  nine  o'clock  on  Monday  morn 
ing.  Of  course,  on  these  clandestine  visits  home,  I  wore 
a  civilian's  dress,  with  nothing  about  me  which  could 
possibly  indicate  my  military  functions. 

Somewhat  later  than  this,  I  had  occasion  to  employ 
a  government  detective  to  hunt  up  a  deserter,  who,  act 
ing  as  my  orderly,  had  stolen  nearly  all  my  decent  cloth 
ing.  He  was  a  clever  scoundrel,  and  while  acting  as 
my  body  servant  or  valet,  had  drawn  my  attention  to 
many  necessary  repairs  on  my  outer  clothing.  At  the 
same  time  he  pointed  out  some  defects  on  my  linen,  and 
flannel  underwear.  He  kindly  offered  to  have  all  defects 
remedied,  and  the  mending,  generally,  thoroughly  done. 
He  knew  a  nice  German  seamstress.  The  laundrying 
he  hardly  thought  was  up  to  the  grade  of  my  linen,  so 
he  had  that  attended  to  also  at  a  very  moderate  rate, 
carefully  and  in  a  proper  businesslike  spirit ;  he  even 
brought  me  back  six  cents  change.  My  silk  (civilian's) 
hat  he  had  ironed,  and  all  my  shoes  neatly  cobbled.  I 
was  quite  nicely  fitted  out,  as  good  as  new,  and  then 
when  all  was  complete,  he  disappeared,  and  with  him  all 
my  clothing  and  toilet  apparatus,  and  even  my  tooth 
brush.  He  left  me  nothing  save  what  I  had  on,  not 
even  an  extra  handkerchief,  and  he  went  away  on  a 
rainy  day,  and  I  had  a  bad  cold.  Such  a  desertion  of 


Things  Medical  and  Military  at  Washington  253 

his  colors  was  not  to  be  tolerated  by  the  United  States 
Government,  and  I  was  directed  to  put  the  case  in  the 
hands  of  the  Provost  Marshal's  Department,  and  to  have 
him  arrested  at  any  cost,  as  desertion  from  a  Bureau  of 
the  War  Department  could  not  be  overlooked.  So  one 
or  two  U.  S.  detectives  were  placed  at  my  beck  and 
call,  but  nothing  was  accomplished.  He  was  seen  in 
bad  company  in  New  York,  but  he  evidently  had  some 
recognition  of  the  detective,  and  he  escaped  by  good 
running.  The  last  we  knew  of  him,  he  had  found  his 
way  safely  to  Canada. 

To  return  to  the  detective  service,  I  learned  from 
one  of  its  members  that  all  outgoing  trains  from  Wash 
ington  were  watclied,  to  stop  unauthorized  flitting  of 
officers.  "Do  you  ever  find  any  transgressing  in  that 
respect?"  I  asked.  "Yes,  Doctor,"  he  replied,  "we  often 
do.  For  example,  we  see  that  nearly  every  Saturday 
evening,  you  go  to  your  home  in  Philadelphia,  and  re 
turn  every  Monday  morning  by  the  night  train,  but 
our  orders  are  not  to  stop  you,  as  it  is  all  right." 

The  autumn  and  winter  of  1863,  and  the  early  months 
of  1864,  were  passed  by  me  very  pleasantly  in  Wash 
ington.  I  had  my  daily  routine  of  office  work,  some 
leisure  in  the  afternoons,  and  in  the  evening,  time  for 
social  amusements.  At  all  ordinary  times,  I  was  at  the 
Surgeon-General's  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
There  I  attended  to  my  duties  proper,  until  about  one 
o'clock.  Then  I  usually  lunched  simply  at  Wormley's 
restaurant,  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  slice  of  cold  meat  was 
all  I  took.  My  friends,  Scull  and  Moss,  usually  lunched 
at  the  same  time  and  place.  Then  after  lunch,  I  would 
drop  in  at  the  Museum  building,  look  after  the  running 
of  Museum  matters,  then  take  my  horse,  visit  some  one 
of  the  many  hospitals  in  and  around  Washington,  and 


254  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

later  in  the  afternoon,  ride  with  my  friends.  The  rides 
around  Washington  were  pretty,  and  on  pleasant  after 
noons,  nothing  could  be  more  pleasant  than  a  gallop  out 
Seventh  or  Fourteenth  Street,  or  in  the  lanes  leading 
from  Georgetown  Heights.  When  I  first  went  to  Wash 
ington,  I  bought  a  sorrel  horse  but  I'm  afraid  he  was 
not  of  very  good  breeding,  for  his  sole  accomplishment 
was  a  canter,  easy,  but  not  very  stylish.  I  afterwards 
became  somewhat  ashamed  of  him,  and  bought  another 
beast, — one  of  great  style.  He  was  raised  somewhere 
in  western  New  York,  of  "Royal  George"  ancestry, 
whatever  that  may  be.  He  was  quite  large  and  very 
handsome.  I  paid  four  hundred  dollars  for  him,  and 
was  told  he  was  a  bargain.  He  had  been  brought  to 
Washington,  intended  as  a  present  for  the  officer  in 
specting  the  purchase  of  horses — in  other  words  a  bribe 
horse.  The  gift  being  rejected,  he  was  to  be  sold  for 
what  he  would  bring,  and  I  foolishly  bought  him, 
tempted  by  his  beauty.  But  ' 'handsome  is  as  handsome 
does,"  and  this  brute  was  an  incarnate  fiend.  After 
owning  him  a  short  time,  I  felt  that  I  could  safely  and 
honestly  warrant  him  to  possess  every  vice,  trick  and 
bad  habit  which  any  horse  could  inherit  from  mischiev 
ous  ancestors,  or  develop  by  innate  wickedness.  He 
would  bite,  kick,  bolt,  shy,  rear,  plunge  back  (in  a  sud 
den  and  startling  manner),  buck-jump  (artistically), 
take  the  bit  in  his  teeth  and  run,  plunge  his  head  down 
obstinately,  and  then  raise  it  and  strike  his  rider's  nose 
in  a  wonderful  fashion.  He  understood  all  about  spurs, 
and  if  he  felt  them  he  would  bite  at  the  leg.  You  couldn't 
ride  him  without  strong  leathers,  and  he  had  a  strange 
horror  of  boastful  riders.  He  would  throw  a  jockey 
or  groom  without  hesitation.  I  once  allowed  a  Hun 
garian,  who  had  served  for  years  in  the  Austrian  ser- 


Tilings  Medical  and  Military  at  Washington  255 

vice,  and  two  terms  of  enlistment  in  the  U.  S.  Cavalry, 
to  mount  him.  The  beast  eyed  him  on  his  approach, 
and  laid  back  his  ears,  but  permitted  the  man  quietly  to 
mount  him.  The  next  moment  the  horse  was  in  the  air, 
and  there  was  a  strange  and  complicated  movement  of 
his  forelegs,  and  he  then  stood  quiet  and  riderless.  The 
Hungarian  had  been  shot  from  the  saddle,  and  fortu 
nately  landed  on  a  pile  of  manure  in  the  corner  of  the 
yard.  And  yet  this  beast  let  me  ride  him  in  compara 
tive  quiet,  only  backing  and  bolting  now  and  then,  and 
then,  too,  in  no  very  vicious  spirit.  I  was  afraid  of 
him,  and  he  knew  it,  and  he  seemed  content  to  let  mat 
ters  rest  on  that  basis.  I  kept  him  until  I  left  Washing 
ton.  With  difficulty,  he  was  sold  to  a  cabman,  and 
ran  away  with  the  carriage  and  injured  his  mate.  A 
milkman  bought  him,  and  he  broke  the  wagon  and 
spilled  the  milk.  Finally,  he  was  sold  for  fifty  dollars 
to  the  street  car  company.  I  heard  no  further  particu 
lars  of  his  adventures,  except  in  a  general  way  that  he 
lived  up  to  his  previous  bad  reputation. 

In  the  summer  of  1863,  I  had  a  visit  from  my  cousin, 
Charles  Coxe.  He  had  gone  into  the  service  a  boy, 
was  now  maturing  into  a  good  cavalry  officer,  and  was 
a  very  manly  fellow.  The  more  I  saw  of  him  in  the 
war,  the  more  I  thought  of  him. 

In  the  early  part  of  September  I  moved  into  Wash 
ington  from  Georgetown.  Changes  were  occurring  in 
the  Surgeon-General's  Office.  Dr.  Hammond,  or  as  we 
used  to  say  General  Hammond  (the  Surgeon-General 
had  the  rank  of  Brigadier  General),  had  gotten  into 
trouble  with  Mr.  Stanton,  the  Secretary  of  War,  and 
had  been  sent  off  south  in  partibus  oripedium  on  a 
sort  of  inspecting  tour,  banished  from  Washington,  and 
I  may  say  here,  that  he  never  returned  to  his  official 


256  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

duties  at  the  capital.  He  was  hardly  treated,  for  he 
was  not  guilty  of  any  wrongdoing;  he  simply  could 
not  get  along  with  the  Secretary,  and,  so  to  speak,  ran 
his  head  against  the  wall.  His  case  dragged  on,  he  was 
tried  by  Court  Martial  and  cashiered.  Court  Martials 
sound  well,  but  often  do  injustice,  especially  if  packed, 
or  when  desirous  of  finding  in  accordance  with  higher 
authority.  At  the  time  of  the  sitting  of  the  Court  Mar 
tial,  I  was  lunching  every  day  at  Wormley's  restaurant 
One  morning,  as  one  of  the  members  of  the  Court  came 
in  to  take  his  luncheon,  some  one  present  said,  "How 
are  you,  General,  this  morning?"  "Sir,"  said  the  Gen 
eral,  "I  have  been  fast  asleep  all  the  morning  in  my  chair 
at  that  damned  Hammond  court  martial.  I  did  not  hear 
a  word."  And  he  was  a  prominent  member  of  the  court. 
The  finding  was  foregone.  The  disabilities  of  the 
sentence  were  years  afterwards  annulled  by  Act  of  Con 
gress,  and  General  Hammond  restored  to  the  Army,  and 
placed  on  the  retired  list  as  Brig.-Surg.-Gen.  retired, 
27th  Aug.  1879,  without  pay  or  allowance  under  act 
of  March  15,  1878. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

NO  ARMY  MEDICAL  SCHOOL — METROPOLITAN  CLUB 

Here  I  must  say  something  about  one  of  the  great 
disappointments  of  my  life.  It  was  connected  with  a 
proposed  Army  Medical  School,  like  the  British  School 
at  Netley.  It  had  been  an  idea  of  Surgeon-General  Ham 
mond's  in  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  and  at  the  time 
when  he  was  most  enthusiastic,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
then,  and  to  all  of  the  medical  officers  of  the  old  army, 
who  were  consulted,  that  the  scheme  was  a  good  one, 
to  found  a  medical  school,  the  professors  of  which  should 
be  medical  officers  in  the  army,  and  the  object  of  which 
should  be  the  instruction  of  graduates-in-medicine,  that 
is,  doctors  in  the  medical  branches  of  military  medicine 
and  surgery,  and  in  the  customs  of  the  service.  It  was 
intended  to  teach  them  how  soldiers  should  be  looked 
after  in  health,  on  marches,  in  camp,  how  they  should 
be  treated  when  sick  or  wounded,  how  cared  for  in 
hospitals  or  in  the  field,  and  how  properly  transported. 
All  of  this  knowledge  was  usually  obtained  only  by  ac 
tual  service  and  by  bungling  experience.  Now,  if  this 
experience  could  only  be  imparted  to  the  young  medical 
man  about  to  begin  his  military  life,  much  would  be 
gained  in  point  of  time,  in  efficiency  of  service,  and  in 
care  of  the  soldier.  Our  experience  in  the  early  part 
of  the  war  taught  us,  and  I  speak  very  positively  of 
myself,  how  hard  it  was  for  a  medical  man  who  had 
just  donned  his  uniform,  to  learn  the  mysteries  of  ob- 

257 


258  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

taining  food  from  the  subsistence  department,  or  of 
stores  and  transportation  from  the  quartermaster,  how 
to  obtain  an  ambulance,  or  to  find  horses,  or  to  procure 
forage,  how  even  to  obtain  medicines  from  the  purveyor, 
and  how  to  take  care  of  them  when  received,  how  to 
draw  a  hospital  tent,  how  to  pitch  it,  how  to  keep  it 
standing  and  comfortable  for  the  sick. 

Then,  too,  it  was  an  art  very  different  from  that 
known  to  the  doctor  of  civil  life  to  treat  a  sick  or 
wounded  soldier,  to  make  the  best  of  opportunities,  to 
cure  rapidly,  and  to  return  him  well  and  fit  for  duty  to 
his  command  at  the  earliest  moment.  These  and  thou 
sands  of  other  matters,  it  should  be  the  function  of 
the  military  Medical  School  through  experienced  in 
structors,  to  teach  the  young  surgeon  or  medical  cadet, 
or  even  the  hospital  steward. 

To  assist  in  this  end  the  Army  Museum,  with  its  un 
rivalled  collection  of  specimens  of  pathological  anatomy, 
of  every  sort  of  medical  appliances,  suitable  for  military 
life,  of  models  of  camps,  tents,  hospitals  and  transpor 
tation  by  land  and  water,  could  have  been  turned  to 
good  account  under  a  wise  administration. 

As  I  have  said,  the  foundation  of  such  a  school  had 
been  a  favorite  project  of  Surgeon-General  Hammond, 
and  under  his  general  instructions,  I  had  fitted  up  the 
rooms  beneath  the  main  hall  of  the  Museum  (Corco- 
ran's  Building)  for  teaching  purposes.  There  was  a 
charming  lecture  room,  with  sloping  seats,  a  couple  of 
convenient  little  retiring  rooms  or  laboratories,  a  good 
stage  to  speak  from,  and  a  well  constructed  lecture  and 
revolving  table.  The  illustrations,  in  lavish  profusion, 
were  in  the  main  hall  above,  and  everything  was  ready 
for  the  first  military  medical  course  of  the  United  States 
Army  for  the  session  of  1863-64.  It  wanted  but  the 


No  Army  Medical  School  259 

authorization  of  the  scheme  by  the  Secretary  of  War, 
and  the  appointment  of  the  lecturers  or  professors. 

These  had  in  truth  been  selected.  There  was  Coolidge 
of  the  regular  army,  an  old  officer,  to  teach  the  customs 
of  the  service  and  military  medical' ethics ;  Surgeon  Si- 
dell,  U.  S.  V.,  as  a  teacher  of  chemical  surgery;  and 
Assistant  Surgeon  William  Thomson,  since  famous  as 
an  oculist,  and  Assistant  Surgeon  J.  J.  Woodward,  U. 
S.  A.,  on  military  medicine;  and  also  Roberts  Bartholow 
of  world-wide  reputation,  and  several  others,  whose 
names  have  escaped  me.  Gunshot  injuries  had  been  as 
signed  to  me;  my  pictures  were  painted  in  gorgeous 
style,  and  even  my  introductory  remarks  had  been  jotted 
down. 

In  the  meantime,  Surgeon-General  Hammond  had 
been  sent  away,  and  Acting  Surgeon  Barnes  reigned  in 
his  stead.  As  Curator  of  the  Museum,  I  reported  to  him 
the  forward  state  of  preparation.  The  Secretary  of 
War  was  to  be  informed.  He  was  told  by  Mr.  Barnes. 
He  said  he  would  "decide  the  matter  and  speak  of  it 
to-morrow."  On  the  morrow,  about  nine  o'clock,  on 
his  drive  from  his  home  to  the  war  office,  he  stopped 
at  the  Museum  Building,  descended  from  his  carriage, 
ran  hastily  through  the  Museum  rooms,  looked  angrily 
at  the  dear  little  lecture  room,  stamped  his  foot,  growled, 
"Ugh,"  drove  to  his  office,  sent  for  Acting  Surgeon  Gen 
eral  Barnes  and  said  sharply  to  him,  "Are  these  lectures 
to  be  given  in  the  evenings?"  To  an  affirmative  reply, 
he  growled,  "They  will  go  to  the  theatre  and  neglect 
their  duties.  It  shan't  be,"  and  thus  was  the  end  of  a 
favorite  plan  for  doing  some  good  for  the  Medical 
Corps  of  the  Army,  and  for  disseminating  a  more  cor 
rect  and  general  knowledge  of  military  medicine  and 
surgery. 


260  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Sometime  in  the  winter  of  1863-64,  I  became  a  mem 
ber  of  the  newly  established  Metropolitan  Club,  and  in 
a  short  time  I  was  appointed  one  of  the  governors.  This 
club  then  was  the  only  one  in  Washington,  and  had 
acquired  the  house  lately  ocupied  by  Baron  Gerault,  the 
Minister  from  Prussia.  Many  of  the  high  officers  of 
Government,  secretaries  of  the  cabinet  and  men  of  in 
ferior  grade,  auditors  and  the  like,  joined  it,  also  many 
of  the  diplomatic  corps,  especially  the  younger  mem 
bers  and  attaches.  It  was  a  pleasant  place  to  dine,  to 
smoke,  to  play  billiards,  and  spend  an  evening.  There, 
too,  one  met  many  men  prominent  in  Washington  life, 
some  from  their  individuality,  and  some  from  the  pub 
lic  positions  they  held.  I  recall  thus  to  my  mind,  Messrs. 
Nicolay  and  John  Hay,  the  private  secretaries  of  Presi 
dent  Lincoln,  Mr.  Chase,  the  Secretary  of  the  Treas 
ury,  popularly  known  as  "Old  Greenbacks,"  Secretary 
McCullough,  and  Mr.  Chas.  Sumner. 

McCullough  I  met  often.  He  belonged  to  a  social 
club,  to  which  I  was  often  invited,  and  which  met  at 
members'  houses, — I  think  on  Saturday  evening.  On 
one  occasion  I  was  late,  and  as  I  entered,  Mr.  McCul 
lough  said  to  me,  "Doctor,  you  are  just  in  time  to  de 
cide  an  important  question,  we  are  voting  as  to  which 
design  for  an  engraving  for  a  greenback  we  shall  se 
lect.  We  are  evenly  divided, — now  which  do  you  choose  ? 
Give  your  casting  vote."  I  did  so  and  I  think  I  voted 
for  "Columbus  landing"  or  something  of  that  sort,  and 
so  the  choice  was  made.  I  never  saw  these  notes  after 
wards  without  a  feeling  of  sponsorial  affection. 

For  some  time  my  seat  at  table  was  next  to  Charles 
Sumner,  who  struck  me  as  a  dreadful  pedant,  always 
reading  proof  between  soup  and  fish,  and  speaking 


No  Army  Medical  School  261 

French,  bad  French,  to  the  diplomats  at  table,  who 
usually  spoke  English  perfectly. 

This  club  was  a  dangerous  place  for  an  officer  of  the 
army,  and  I  came  to  grief  from  too  open  an  expression 
of  opinion,  as  I  shall  explain  when  I  come  to  speak  of 
why  I  left  Washington. 

In  November,  1863,  I  remember  an  old  squib  or  pub 
lication  called  the  "New  Gospel  of  Peace,"  a  burlesque, 
if  I  remember  rightly,  on  the  peace  movements, — a  Cop 
perhead  program  that  the  enemies  of  the  government 
were  starting  at  this  time.  In  the  "New  Gospel"  a  good 
deal  is  said  of  the  exploits  and  character  of  one  "Ulysses, 
surnamed  Unculpsalm."  It  attracted  considerable  at 
tention  at  its  first  appearance,  and  I  sent  a  copy  of  it 
to  General  Grant.  The  idea  of  making  him  Lieutenant 
General,  reviving  Scott's  rank,  was  at  this  time  much 
talked  of,  and  was  in  fact  done  in  the  early  part  of 
March,  1864,  General  Grant,  then  in  command  of  the 
Armies,  being  appointed  by  the  President  and  confirmed 
by  the  Senate  as  Lieutenant  General,  March  loth,  1864. 

At  this  time,  I  had  an  ambulance  to  take  me  from 
place  to  place.  All  understrappers,  like  myself,  had  every 
convenience,  ambulance  and  other  concomitants  of  mili 
tary  luxury,  pertaining  to  official  life.  In  reality,  bureau 
officers  and  attaches  had  more  attendants  in  waiting 
than  even  the  President  himself,  or  at  all  events, 
than  Mr.  Lincoln  had.  I  remember  very  well  that  Mr. 
Nicolay  told  me  at  the  club  that  President  Lincoln  was 
very  badly  off  for  personal  attendance.  He  only  had 
one  or  two  civil  attendants  or  messengers  in  his  hall. 
He  was  so  conscientious  that  he  would  not  allow  sol 
diers  to  be  detailed  for  his  personal  service.  The  men 
he  employed  were  overworked,  and  often  he  had  diffi 
culty  in  dispatching  really  important  public  business. 


262  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Nicolay  told  me  that  he  had  not  even  stationery  enough 
for  the  office  work. 

During  the  winter  of  1863-64,  the  Army  of  the  Po 
tomac  was  quiet.  At  Washington,  military  affairs 
seemed  at  a  standstill,  gaiety  was  at  its  height,  society 
had  by  this  time  become  more  settled,  and,  as  it  were, 
had  crystallized.  The  old  "before  the  war"  society  had 
disappeared,  or  shrunk  into  the  background.  Before 
and  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  "society"  at  the  capital 
was  Southern  in  tone.  This  society  then  represented  the 
wealth  and  culture  of  the  city.  The  war  came, — the 
most  active  Southern  sympathizers  went  South,  and 
joined  formally  the  Confederate  cause.  A  few  of  the 
old  people  remained  in  quiet  and  comparative  obscurity, 
but  always  on  the  lookout  for  news,  and  probably  send 
ing  much  useful  intelligence  to  friends  at  the  South. 
Some  of  these  people  regarded  themselves  as  neutral,  but 
I  am  sure  that  in  feeling  and  sympathy  they  clung  to  the 
South,  and  to  their  former  traditions. 

Under  the  excitement  of  the  war,  strangers  from  the 
loyal  states  flocked  to  Washington,  and  soon  formed 
for  themselves  a  new  society.  These  newcomers  were 
composed  of  the  fresh  republicans  and  their  friends, 
military  officers,  stationed  at  and  around  Washington, 
and  their  families  in  part,  and  government  officials  of 
all  grades,  at  first  a  somewhat  motley  lot.  Then,  there 
was  a  constant  tide  of  contractors  of  all  sorts,  people 
seeking  to  make  money. 

Thus  constituted,  the  general  society  of  Washington 
was  at  first  somewhat  peculiar.  It  was  smart,  quick, 
bright,  but  it  was  wanting  in  homogeneity,  and  the  old- 
fashioned  indolence  and  polish.  By  degrees,  as  time 
elapsed,  it  became  less  evanescent  and  changing,  and 
more  settled  and  systematized.  But  still  there  remained 


No  Army  Medical  School  263 

in  feeling,  if  not  in  fact,  two  circles, — one,  the  society 
of  Washington,  the  centers  being  the  White  House,  the 
houses  of  the  cabinet  officers,  and  the  diplomatic  man 
sions;  the  other,  a  circle  o£  old-fashioned  people,  very 
quiet  and  nice  and  hospitable  to  well-introduced  stran 
gers,  but  silent  on  the  events  of  the  day.  If  by  any 
chance,  they  expressed  an  opinion,  it  was  very  tender 
in  their  judgment  of  the  South,  and  strong  in  their 
admiration  of  General  Lee,  and  "President  Davis." 

By  good  luck,  I  was  fortunate  to  have  the  entree 
everywhere,  thanks  to  the  kindness  of  a  sister-in-law  of 
a  friend,  a  woman  of  bright  disposition  and  handsome 
person,  clever,  and  well  bred,  who  knew  everyone,  and 
went  everywhere,  and  who  just  at  that  time  was  glad 
to  have  an  escort.  She  left  my  cards  everywhere,  and 
at  once  I  was  effectually  introduced.  Cards  of  invitation 
poured  in  on  me,  and  I  fully  availed  myself  of  my  good 
fortune.  I  remember  frequently  visiting  at  the  White 
House.  The  young  ladies  prominent  in  society  would 
fix  on  an  evening,  and  with  a  sacred  few,  call,  half  infor 
mally,  on  Mrs.  Lincoln.  The  ladies  of  the  cabinet  gave 
a  good  many  state  receptions,  and  oftentimes  quiet  little 
gatherings  for  the  young  people.  At  the  houses  of  Sena 
tors  Morgan  (of  New  York),  Dixon  (of  Connecticut), 
Reverdy  Johnson  (of  Maryland),  and  many  others,  I 
was  a  frequent  visitor.  Commodore  Wilkes,  who  cir 
cumnavigated  the  world,  and  afterwards  came  to  official 
grief  in  the  matter  of  Mason  and  Slidell  and  the  Trent 
affair,  had  a  charming  old  house,  where  I  spent  many  a 
pleasant  evening  with  Mr.  Coolidge,  and  the  Morris  fam 
ily, — the  famous  Morris  who  went  down  on  the  Cum 
berland,  with  the  United  States  flag  still  flying  at  the 
mast  head,  at  Fortress  Monroe.  Another  house  at  which 
I  visited  frequently  was  that  of  Mrs.  Stephen  A.  Douglas, 


264  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

the  famous  beauty  and  widow  of  the  western  politician. 
She  was  formerly  a  Miss  Cutts,  a  beautiful  and  clever 
woman,  who  exercised  great  and  widespread  influence 
by  virtue  of  her  intellect,  good  looks  and  name.  It  was 
a  delightful  house  to  visit,  and  one  met  there  many 
prominent  personages  of  the  day,  especially  men  in  and 
around  the  government.  Conversation  on  political  top 
ics  was  very  free,  and  there  was  less  constraint  than  at 
any  house  in  the  city  to  which  I  had  access.  People 
could  and  did  say  in  her  parlor  things  touching  passing 
events,  which  they  could  not  speak  elsewhere.  Usually 
one  in  Government  employ  had  to  be  very  careful  of  his 
words,  as  I  afterwards  found  out  to  my  cost. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  PRESIDENT  AND  SOME  LESSER  DIGNITARIES 

I  daresay  my  readers  will  naturally  ask  what  I  saw  of 
Mr.  Lincoln,  our  President,  who  will  go  down  to  pos 
terity  as  one  of  the  great  personages  of  history.  Over 
and  over  again,  I  was  presented  to  him  on  official  occa 
sions,  and  once  I  amputated  at  the  shoulder  joint,  the 
arm  of  a  soldier  at  a  hospital  in  Washington,  which 
the  President  was  visiting  at  the  time.  He  was  greatly 
interested,  but  evidently  had  little  fondness  for  surgery. 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  operation,  a  younger  surgeon, 
who  had  been  watching  me,  expressed  with  some  enthusi 
asm  and  in  a  voice  audible  to  the  President,  his  con 
gratulations  upon  the  operation,  and  I  remember  well 
being  startled  by  the  voice  of  the  President  behind  my 
back,  making  the  solemn  inquiry,  "But  how  about  the 
soldier?" 

When  times  were  critical,  and  great  battles  were  be 
ing  fought,  and  news  from  the  front  scarce  and  unde 
cided,  it  was  considered  safer  at  army  headquarters  in 
Washington  not  to  tell  the  President  too  soon  how  things 
were  going,  at  all  events  until  results  were  certain.  The 
President,  grand  character  as  he  was,  was  considered 
just  a  little  "leaky,"  and  delighted  to  surprise  his  political 
friends  and  cronies  with  news,  especially  glorying  in 
good  news,  but  it  was  not  always  well  to  make  public, 
too  early,  announcements,  whether  for  good  or  evil.  The 
news  channel  to  the  South  was  too  straight  and  active. 
This  Secretary  Stanton  and  others  knew,  and  so,  from 

265 


266  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

prudential  reasons,  President  Lincoln  was  often  kept  in 
ignorance  of  what  was  going  on.  At  such  times,  he  was 
very  restless  and  anxious,  and  more  than  once  at  critical 
periods,  I  have  seen  him  nervously  hurrying  from  the 
White  House  to  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  .War,  and 
to  army  headquarters  and  back  again,  in  search  of  in 
formation  for  the  time  kept  from  him.  On  one  or  two 
occasions,  he  spent  the  best  part  of  the  day  in  these  fruit 
less  trips;  and,  strange  to  say,  not  a  few  of  the  officers 
on  duty  at  the  different  bureaus  of  the  War  Department 
were  aware  of  the  circumstances. 

As  I  have  said,  I  passed  the  early  part  of  the  winter 
of  '64  in  the  society  of  Washington,  enjoying  it  greatly, 
and  I  may  state,  in  anticipation,  that  in  the  latter  part 
of  March,  Mrs.  Grant  arrived  in  the  city.  Her  first 
experience  of  Washington  society  was,  I  think,  at  Mrs. 
Blair's.  I  believe  I  was  the  only  person  she  knew  in  the 
room  at  the  time,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  taking  her 
through  the  rooms,  and  of  presenting  very  many  Wash 
ington  people  to  her.  She  was  received  with  great 
warmth,  all  looking  to  her  with  curiosity  to  see  what 
manner  of  woman  the  wife  of  so  great  a  general 
might  be. 

On  March  nth,  General  Grant  returned  to  Tennessee, 
and  took  leave  of  the  armies  of  the  west.  On  the  22nd 
or  23rd  of  March  he  returned  to  Washington,  staying 
at  Willard's  Hotel.  He  was  beset  by  visitors  and  poli 
ticians.  I  called  on  him  several  times,  but  could  not  see 
him.  On  the  2/th,  he  was  again  in  Washington,  I  then 
saw  him  and  had  a  long  chat  with  him.  I  found  him 
just  the  same  man  he  always  was,  simple,  unaffected,  and 
his  head  unturned  by  the  adulation  he  received.  He 
treated  me  then  as  always,  with  simple  kindness. 

About  the  25th  of  March,  1864,  General  Sheridan  ar- 


The  President  and  Some  Lesser  Dignitaries  267 

rived  at  Washington.  I  had  last  seen  him  at  Murfrees- 
boro,  Tennessee.  Grant  had  just  placed  him  in  com 
mand  of  the  cavalry  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
Sheridan,  standing  under  the  porch  of  Willard's  Hotel, 
said  to  me,  "Doctor,  I'm  going  to  take  the  cavalry  away 
from  the  bob-tail  brigadier-generals.  They  must  do  with 
out  their  escorts.  I  intend  to  make  the  cavalry  an  arm 
of  the  service." 

In  the  early  part  of  May,  active  preparations  were  be 
gun  by  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  Grant  moved 
forward  on  the  memorable  Wilderness  campaign,  which 
ended  in  the  capture  of  Richmond,  the  surrender  of  Lee, 
and  the  overthrow  of  the  Rebellion.  On  the  3rd  or  4th 
of  May,  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  crossed  the  Rapidan, 
and  the  terrific  series  of  battles  commenced.  For  forty 
days  men  fell  by  the  thousands,  telegraphic  communica 
tion  from  Washington  with  the  army  ceased,  and  at 
first  it  was  found  impossible  to  communicate  with  the 
wounded  or  to  transport  them  to  Washington  or  to 
northern  hospitals. 

On  the  Qth  of  May,  1864,  I  received  orders  to  go  to 
Fredericksburg,  Virginia,  and  to  report  for  surgical 
duty  to  the  Medical  Director  of  the  Army  of  the  Poto 
mac.  On  the  same  day,  I  was  directed  by  another  order 
to  take  charge  of  the  battle  supplies  placed  on  board  the 
steamers  State  of  Maine  and  Connecticut,  and  have  them 
delivered  at  Fredericksburg,  Virginia,  for  the  use  of  the 
wounded  at  that  place.  In  giving  me  these  orders,  the 
Acting  Surgeon-General  Barnes  told  me  verbally,  "Doc 
tor,  our  losses  have  been  enormous,  the  wounded  are  by 
thousands,  we  don't  know  where  they  are  and  so  far  all 
attempts  to  send  them  supplies  have  failed.  Take  these 
supplies  on  board  the  steamers  and  get  them  forwarded 
at  any  hazard  and  at  any  loss.  If  you  cannot  deliver 


268  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

all,  deliver  one-half;  if  not  that  much,  deliver  what  you 
can;  the  wounded  are  suffering  for  them,  and  do  the 
best  you  can.  The  Secretary  of  War  authorizes  you 
through  me  to  take  possession  in  his  name  of  any  and 
all  wagon  trains  to  transport  these  supplies  to  Freder- 
icksburg.  Give  what  orders  you  please  in  his  name 
for  this  purpose." 

Accordingly,  I  went  down  with  these  steamers  to  Belle 
Plain  on  the  Potomac  Creek.  The  steamers  carried  an 
immense  amount  of  medical  supplies, — hundreds  of  thou 
sands  of  dollars'  worth.  A  corps  of  engineers  and  bridge 
builders  were  on  board  and  these  were  directed  to  give 
me  every  possible  support  and  assistance  in  landing  the 
supplies,  when  I  was  to  look  out  for  myself,  and  to  get 
proper  protection  and  transportation  from  the  army  to 
which  I  was  to  deliver  them.  Arriving  at  Belle  Plain, 
I  found  a  shallow,  muddy  shore,  no  wharf,  no  landing. 
The  engineers  immediately  built  caissons  or  cribs  of  tim 
bers,  some  of  which  they  had  brought  with  them  and 
some  of  which  they  cut.  These  were  sunken  in  the 
shallow  water  and  timbers  and  trees  stretched  between 
so  as  to  form  a  sort  of  roadway  over  which  the 
supplies  could  be  carried  safely  to  land.  The  landing 
was  overlooked  by  higher  ground,  and  it  was  necessary 
to  place  guards  for  the  protection  of  the  precious  sup 
plies.  I  learned  that  the  road  from  Belle  Plain  to  Fred- 
ericksburg,  ten  or  twelve  miles  distant,  was  infested  with 
guerillas,  and  that  no  bridge  existed  at  Fredericksburg. 
I  had  no  force  by  which  to  send  forward  my  supplies, 
and  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  go  forward  myself  to 
obtain  wagons  and  guards.  To  avoid  the  guerillas  on 
the  road,  I  determined  to  walk  along  the  edge  of  the 
woods  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  road,  and  this  I  did 
in  a  pouring  rain,  which  wet  me  so  thoroughly  that  my 


The  President  and  Some  Lesser  Dignitaries  269 

pocket  case  of  instruments  was  dissolved  by  the  wet  and 
the  instruments  huddled  loose  in  my  pocket.  The  in 
clement  weather  protected  me  from  the  guerillas,  who 
were  not  very  active  just  then,  and  arriving  within  a  mile 
or  two  of  Fredericksburg,  I  met  a  small  body  of  cavalry, 
who  were  going  to  Belle  Plain  with  a  few  wagons  in 
search  of  quartermaster  stores  and  ammunition.  Acting 
under  my  verbal  orders,  I  took  possession  of  these  wag 
ons  in  spite  of  the  most  vehement  protests  and  threats, 
and  I  walked  back  to  Belle  Plain,  loaded  up  the  wagon 
train  with  medical  stores,  and  sent  them  forward  on 
May  loth  under  Assistant  Surgeon  Brinton  Stone  with 
instructions  to  get  through  as  many  of  them  as  possible 
to  Fredericksburg.  He  was  a  daring,  persevering  man, 
and  started  without  escort,  but  with  the  wagons.  His 
train  became  separated  in  two  sections,  the  front  one 
of  which,  consisting  of  a  very  few  wagons,  reached 
Fredericksburg.  The  latter  section,  and  he  himself, 
were  captured  by  Captain  Mosby,  a  "guerilla,"  that  is, 
an  independent  ranger,*  with  from  50  to  200  troopers, 
acting  under  his  own  orders,  hanging  on  the  rear  of  our 
armies,  capturing  scouts,  peddlers,  wanderers,  wagon- 
trains,  and  all  stragglers.  He  was  a  veritable  "moss 
trooper,"  annoying  us  a  great  deal,  but  never  preventing 
any  serious  movement. 

The  wagons  and  contents  were  carried  off,  and  Stone 
himself  was  obliged  to  accompany  Mosby  for  a  whole 
night.  Mosby  took  a  fancy  to  him  and  in  the  morning 
said,  "Doctor,  if  you  will  give  me  your  word  of  honor 
not  to  say  for  twenty- four  hours  where  you  have  been, 

*The  command  of  John  S.  Mosby,  usually  denominated  "Mosby's 
Guerillas,"  was  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  43rd  Virginia  Regiment  of 
Cavalry  and  duly  commissioned  as  such  by  the  Confederate  Govern 
ment.— E.  T.  S. 


270  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

who  has  captured  you,  or  anything  whatever  that  you 
have  heard  or  seen,  I  will  let  you  go."  Stone  gave  the 
promise,  a  man  was  detailed  to  accompany  him  back  to 
the  road,  and  he  was  set  free,  having  been  provided  with 
a  rather  shabby  horse  in  place  of  his  own  fine  one.  He 
reported  to  me,  stating  in  general  terms  what  had  hap 
pened,  but  sedulously  keeping  his  word  and  not  violating 
the  parole. 

The  train  of  wagons  under  Assistant  Surgeon  Brin 
ton  Stone  was  followed  by  a  train  from  the  Sanitary 
Commission.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  May 
loth,  I  sent  forward  a  second  supply  train  under  Sur 
geon  Homiston,  to  Fredericksburg.  Stone  and  Homis- 
ton  reported  back  to  me  at  Belle  Plain  on  the  nth  of 
May. 

By  this  time  the  wagons  had  begun  to  arrive  from  the 
army  containing  many  slightly  wounded  men,  among 
others  my  cousin  Charles  Coxe,  who  had  been  wounded 
in  the  arm  at  Todd's  Tavern.  I  then  forwarded  the 
supply  trains  as  fast  as  I  could  to  Fredericksburg. 
Additional  supplies  were  being  received  from  Wash 
ington  and  soon  Sanitary  and  Christian  Commissioners 
arrived  in  great  numbers.  I  had  no  quarters  for  these 
gentlemen,  and  at  night  I  was  obliged  to  let  them  sleep 
on  a  canal  boat  filled  with  blankets.  Lights  were  for 
bidden.  Stone,  whom  I  instructed  to  make  them  com 
fortable,  reported  to  me  early  in  the  morning  that  he  was 
afraid  there  must  be  a  good  many  dead  Christians  in  the 
hold  of  the  boat,  "Because,"  he  said,  "I  had  to  close  the 
hatch  to  keep  the  stores  from  being  damaged."  Fortu 
nately,  they  had  plenty  of  air,  and  slept  comfortably  in 
the  blankets. 

A  favorite  trick  of  the  Sanitary  Commission  agents 
was  to  ride  forward  with  a  wagon  or  two  under  the 


The  President  and  Some  Lesser  Dignitaries  271 

protection  of  a  military  train  until  the  lines  of  safety 
were  reached;  then  as  their  own  wagons  were  usually 
better  horsed  than  those  of  the  Medical  Department, 
they  would  whip  out  from  the  line,  pass  the  front,  open 
their  supplies  (usually  of  lemons  and  canned  fruit)  and 
the  next  day's  New  York  Herald  or  some  such  paper 
would  announce  that  "as  usual  the  Sanitary  Commission 
was  first  on  the  ground  to  assist  our  wounded  boys." 

In  a  train  sent  forward  under  Stone's  command,  an 
obnoxious  Sanitarian  with  a  four-horse  light  wagon  of 
lemons  and  crackers,  asked  protection  and  escort,  to 
which  I  acceded.  As  they  started,  Stone  whispered  to 
me,  "I  don't  think  that  Sanitarian  will  be  first  in  Fred- 
ericksburg."  He  afterwards  told  me,  with  a  chuckle, 
that  unfortunately  the  linch-pin  came  out  of  the  sanitary 
wheel  right  in  the  midst  of  a  deep  creek  fording,  and 
that  the  last  he  saw  of  the  Sanitary  Commissioners  was 
that  they  were  soused  in  the  swollen  stream.  He  said 
nobody  was  to  blame;  but  the  teamsters,  I  heard,  were 
very  merry  over  the  mishap. 

Belle  Plain  was  now  established  as  the  depot  for  the 
army,  and  having  arranged  matters  at  this  place,  I  went 
forward  with  a  supply  train  on  May  13,  1864,  to  Fred- 
ericksburg,  which  I  found  filled  with  wounded,  a  train 
of  six  or  seven  hundred  wagonfuls  having  arrived  from 
the  front.  Having  reported  by  letter  to  the  Medical 
Director  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  I  wrote  by  the 
same  messenger  to  Captain  Mason  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry, 
asking  him  to  send  me  one  or  two  orderlies,  a  pack 
horse,  and  a  horse  for  myself.  The  pack  horse,  I  told 
him  I  would  load  with  a  couple  of  kegs  of  Army  Mu 
seum  whiskey  (cherry  brandy),  which  I  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  bring  with  me.  In  due  time,  horses  and 
men  arrived,  and  with  Kelly,  the  trooper,  I  started  for 


272  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

General  Grant's  headquarters,  wherever  they  might  be. 
The  kegs  were  neatly  slung  on  the  backs  of  the  pack 
horses,  and  Kelly  assured  me  that  they  and  I  were 
anxiously  awaited  at  headquarters. 

We  passed  over  the  old  battlefield,  over  Marye's 
Heights,  through  the  old  Confederate  defences  and  out 
through  the  woods  and  wilderness  region,  in  search  of 
headquarters.  It  was  all  very  lonely,  nobody  could  be 
seen,  and  there  hardly  seemed  to  be  a  bird  in  the  woods. 
At  last,  and  just  as  we  were  in  doubt  which  way  we 
were  to  go,  whom  should  I  meet  but  my  friend  and 
distant  relative,  Colonel  Joe  Brinton  of  the  8th  Penn 
sylvania  Cavalry.  He  gave  me  the  general  bearings, 
and  I  and  my  trooper  rode  on,  the  road  becoming  more 
and  more  silent  as  we  advanced.  Finally,  after  two 
or  three  hours'  riding,  we  came  to  a  fine  old  deserted 
mansion  with  broken  greenhouses  attached.  There  was 
a  little  clearing  in  the  woods  here,  and  somehow  or 
other,  I  felt  that  we  were  off  our  track,  wandering  in 
space  as  it  were.  The  more  I  looked,  the  more  and 
more  I  was  convinced  that  we  were  entirely  wrong,  so 
we  retraced  our  steps  and  finally  after  much  devious 
wandering,  we  struck  the  trodden  road,  and  in  the  after 
noon,  reached  General  Grant's  headquarters,  where  I 
was  kindly  welcomed. 

After  a  while,  General  Grant  asked  me  to  take  a 
seat  by  him  some  twenty  yards  in  front  of  his  tent,  as 
he  said  he  wanted  to  talk  to  me.  I  remember  that  he 
was  smoking  a  big  pipe.  He  spoke  to  me  of  old  times. 
Just  then  Rawlins  reported  to  him  that  one  or  two 
large  regiments  of  heavy  artillery  were  approaching. 
They  were  the  soldiers  who  had  garrisoned  the  defences 
of  Washington,  and  had  been  converted  and  armed  as 
infantry  and  sent  to  the  front.  He  pointed  to  them 


The  President  and  Some  Lesser  Dignitaries  273 

approaching  on  the  road  to  the  left.  The  General  re 
marked,  "Order  them  in"  (the  6th  New  York  Artillery 
and  I  think,  a  Massachusetts  regiment)  ;  they  imme 
diately  advanced  under  fire,  and  took  an  active  part  in 
the  contest,  which  I  have  omitted  to  state  was  taking 
place  to  the  left  of  the  General's  headquarters.  They 
advanced  in  a  line  which  seemed  to  me  to  melt  as  it 
went  on,  so  fierce  was  the  fire.  As  darkness  fell,  the 
firing  ceased  and  after  a  while  Rawlins,  the  Chief  of 
Staff,  approached  General  Grant  and  advised  him  that 
the  details  of  the  day's  fight  were  coming  in  over  the 
telegraph.  "How  does  it  stand,"  said  the  General;  the 
answer  was,  "We  have  lost  about"  so  many,  "the  enemy 
have  lost"  so  many,  mentioning  a  greater  number. 
"Ah!"  said  the  General,  "then  we  are  still  gaining  on 
them,  still  a  little  ahead." 

The  Staff,  one  or  two  of  whom  I  knew,  seemed  some 
what  surprised  to  see  a  mere  Doctor  and  Major  talk 
ing  familiarly  with  the  General.  After  a  while,  General 
Meade  came  up  into  headquarters  to  know  how  things 
were  going,  and  General  Grant  explained  to  him  very 
quietly  and  simply.  General  Meade's  manner  was  also 
very  quiet  and  military,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  he 
recognized  the  great  qualities  of  this  simple  unassuming 
man  to  whom  he  was  talking. 

General  Grant  asked  me  how  I  reached  headquarters 
and  by  what  road  I  had  come,  expressing  surprise  that 
I  had  taken  so  long  to  make  the  trip  from  Fredericks- 
burg  there.  When  I  told  him  of  the  big  house,  and 
the  green  house  and  trailing  vines,  he  said  to  me,  "Why, 
Doctor,  you  have  been  behind  the  enemy's  cavalry;  I 
wonder  you  ever  got  here." 

I  stayed  that  night  at  headquarters.  When  I  went 
to  bed  there  was  a  vast  force  between  the  spot  where 


274  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Ennton 

I  was  and  the  enemy's  lines.  In  the  morning  at  day 
break,  when  I  woke,  there  was  not  a  soldier  to  be  seen. 
I  asked  Rawlins  how  this  was.  He  answered,  "We  have 
moved  a  whole  wing  of  the  army  during  the  night."  I 
said,  "What  force  is  there  to  protect  these  headquarters. 
He  replied,  "Not  one  soul.  A  company  of  the  enemy's 
cavalry  could  capture  us  all,  but  we  are  going  away 


now." 


I  may  state  that  the  Medical  Director  of  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac,  Surgeon  McParlin,  had  assigned  me  by 
letter  on  the  I3th  of  May,  to  duty  as  Medical  Purveyor 
of  the  Army.  I  explained  to  the  General  that  it  was  not 
the  intention  of  the  Surgeon-General  to  put  me  on 
permanent  duty;  that  I  had  my  work  at  Washington  to 
finish.  He  laughed  and  said,  "We  must  keep  you  here, 
so  that  we  can  get  plenty  of  castor  oil."  However,  he 
directed  my  order  changed,  so  that  on  the  morning  of  the 
1 5th,  I  was  able  to  return  to  Fredericksburg,  finish  up 
the  business  of  the  supplies,  see  what  surgery  I  could, 
and  having  thus  fulfilled  my  order  of  delivering  the 
battlefield  supplies,  betook  myself  to  Washington  in 
accordance  with  my  instructions  from  the  Acting-Sur 
geon-General.  On  the  22nd  of  May,  I  was  back  at  my 
old  duties  in  the  office. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

JAMES    RIVER    AND    CITY    POINT 

On  the  5th  of  June,  1864,  I  received  orders  from  the 
Acting-Surgeon-General  to  go  to  White  House,  Vir 
ginia,  and  report  by  letter  to  the  Medical  Director  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  for  surgical  duty  with  the 
wounded  at  that  place.  General  Grant  was  at  this  time 
operating  with  two  armies.  One,  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  with  which  he  had  crossed  the  Rapidan,  and 
moved  southward  through  the  wilderness,  lay  north 
east  of  Richmond,  with  headquarters  at  Cold  Harbor. 
It  was  the  General's  evident  intention  to  swing  this 
army  around  and  to  the  south  of  Richmond,  cross  the 
James  River  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  Harri 
son's  Landing,  and  join  and  co-operate  with  the  army 
of  the  James  River,  which,  under  Gen.  B.  F.  Butler, 
had  been  moved  to  the  south  bank,  and  occupied  Ber 
muda  Hundred.  With  the  co-operation  of  these  two 
forces,  General  Grant  then  proposed  to  act  against 
Petersburg  and  destroy  the  railroad  lines  which  formed 
the  communication  between  Richmond  and  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia  and  the  South.  This  isolated 
Richmond,  and  General  Lee's  Army  must  eventually 
surrender.  Thus,  in  the  end  it  proved,  and  so  fell  the 
Southern  cause. 

I  immediately  left  Washington  by  boat  for  White 
House,  ascending  the  Pamunkey  River  and  arriving 
there,  reported  according  to  my  orders,  and  was  soon 

275 


276  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

hard  at  work  at  real  professional  duties.  There  were 
here  many  wounded,  and  there  was  plenty  for  every 
one  to  do. 

At  White  House  I  remained  several  days;  in  the 
meantime  the  Army  was  moving  toward  the  James, 
and  preparations  were  being  made  shortly  to  abandon 
White  House  as  a  base,  and  the  stores,  supplies  and 
wounded  were  generally  removed,  and  by  June  22nd, 
White  House  was  abandoned  as  a  depot.  On  the  I4th 
of  June,  I  left  White  House,  sailed  down  the  Pamunkey, 
and  up  the  James.  On  the  i6th,  I  reached  Fort  Pow- 
hatan,  eight  miles  below  Harrison's  Landing,  on  the 
south  bank  of  the  James.  Here  a  pontoon  bridge  had 
been  laid,  and  columns  of  our  army  had  crossed  and 
were  crossing.  Several  pontoons  had  been  put  down 
between  this  point  and  City  Point,  which  was  our  chief 
base.  The  laying  of  these  boat  bridges  was  under  the 
supervision  of  General  Benham,  of  the  Engineers.  I 
had  known  him  in  Washington,  for  we  had  for  some 
time  taken  our  meals  at  the  same  table.  At  the  time 
I  approached  the  pontoon  bridge,  which  was  opened 
for  the  space  of  two  or  three  boats  to  let  steamers  pass, 
Benham  was  standing  at  the  end  (the  mid-stream  end), 
of  his  bridge.  At  this  time,  I  was  in  medical  charge  of 
a  steamer  with  a  long  tow  of  canal  boats  having  medical 
stores.  We  had  to  approach  the  cut  in  the  bridge 
obliquely,  and  somehow  or  other,  hampered  by  our  long 
train  of  heavy  boats,  we  lost  our  headway,  and  came 
athwart  the  pontoon,  tearing  the  boats  from  the  anchor 
age,  and  doing  not  a  little  harm  in  spite  of  our  best 
efforts  to  avoid  injury.  Benham,  who  was  a  high- 
tempered  man,  looked  upon  this  damage  as  an  inter 
ference  with  his  work.  He  was  greatly  incensed  (and 
I  don't  wonder),  and  seeing  me  on  the  deck  of  the 


James  River  and  City  Point  277 

steamer,  in  uniform,  and  apparently  in  charge,  he  be 
came  fiercely  enraged  and  excited.  "Shoot  him,  shoot 
him,  shoot  the  scoundrel/7  he  shouted,  pointing  to  me. 
I  called  to  him  by  name,  but  he  was  so  angry  it  was 
no  use,  so  I  prudently  disappeared.  Thus  I  left  him 
in  his  rage,  and  passed  up  to  my  destination,  City 
Point. 

At  this  place,  I  remained  on  board  one  of  the  steamers, 
and  here  I  may  say  that  I  was  quite  surprised  to  find 
several  of  the  little  stern-wheel  steamers  taken  from 
our  Shuylkill  River  where  they  had  plied  between  Fair- 
mount  and  Manayunk.  They,  with  so  many  steam  ves 
sels,  had  been  pressed  into  service,  and  being  of  light 
draught  and  easily  managed,  proved  of  great  service. 
They  had  a  very  home-like  appearance  to  me,  and  when 
I  was  temporarily  in  charge  of  them,  I  almost  thought 
I  was  in  my  own  house.  They  were  used  for  medical 
storage  and  supplies. 

General  Grant's  headquarters  were  now  being  estab 
lished  at  City  Point,  and  he  lived  in  the  little  log  cabin 
which  many  of  my  readers  have  so  often  seen  in  Fair- 
mount  Park  near  the  Lemon  Hill  Mansion,  and  before 
one  comes  to  the  Girard  Avenue  Bridge.*  I  remember 
riding  to  the  General's  headquarters,  but  he  was  away, 
and  I  did  not  see  him.  About  the  iQth,  I  rode  out 
along  our  lines  on  the  left  towards  Petersburg,  and  on 
my  way  out,  I  passed  within  sight  of  a  rebel  sharp 
shooter,  stationed  up  a  tree,  a  long  way  off,  a  mile  it 
seemed  to  me.  He  was  good  enough  to  favor  me  with 
a  shot,  and  the  ball  struck  the  ground  near  me.  On  this 

*This  historic  cabin  Grant  gave  to  George  H.  Stuart,  who  had  it 
carefully  taken  apart,  shipped  by  schooner  and  erected  in  Fairmount 
Park.  It  remained  the  property  of  G.  H.  Stuart's  estate  until  for 
mally  presented  to  the  city  in  1903. — E.  T.  S. 


278  Personal   Memoirs  of  Jolm  H.  Print  on 

ride,  at  a  hospital,  I  saw  a  poor  fellow,  who  while 
squatting  on  a  rail,  over  a  little  stream,  washing  out 
his  shirt,  had  been  shot  through  both  thigh  bones  by  a 
Whitworth  bullet  or  bolt  (hexagonal),  fired  by  a  sharp 
shooter  from  a  tree  said  to  be  nearly  a  measured  mile 
and  a  quarter  distant.  The  poor  fellow  died  and  the 
bolt  is  in  my  collection  of  projectiles. 

There  was  a  constant  skirmishing  fire  kept  up  along 
our  front;  everywhere,  one  could  see  the  white  puffs  of 
smoke.  \Ve  were  constantly  pushing  out  for  new  posi 
tions,  which,  of  course,  our  enemy  resisted.  This  ride 
conveyed  to  me  an  idea  of  continuous  fighting  on  a 
small  scale.  Here,  too,  I  saw  a  good  many  negro  troops, 
the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  them  in  the  field.  They 
looked  well,  but  did  not  in  these  operations  prove  alto 
gether  satisfactory,  but  I  shall  say  more  of  them  when 
I  come  to  speak  of  the  Battle  of  Nashville,  in  December, 
1864. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  month  of  June,  about  the 
28th,  I  think,  a  cavalry  raid  was  undertaken  by  the 
Southern  forces.  A  large  body  of  horse  and  light 
artillery  advanced  into  northern  Maryland,  occupying 
Hagerstown,  threatening  Frederick,  scouring  the  coun 
try,  collecting  forage  and  stores,  and  levying  contribu 
tions  of  money.  A  general  panic  ensued,  and  the  utmost 
consternation  prevailed.  The  object  of  this  raid,  un 
doubtedly,  was  to  threaten  Washington  (uncovered  by 
General  Hunter's  retirement  to  western  Virginia),  and 
thus  to  force  General  Grant  to  weaken  his  forces  in 
front  of  Richmond  and  Petersburg,  by  sending  troops 
to  the  relief  of  Washington.  But  General  Grant  was 
quite  equal  to  the  occasion ;  he  was  by  no  means 
"stampeded,"  to  use  a  western  term;  and  as  we  shall 
see,  while  sending  a  few  troops  to  the  defence  of  the 


James  River  and  City  Point  279 

national  capital,  he  never  for  a  moment  relaxed  his 
death  grip  on  Lee's  army  and  Richmond. 

After  having  ravaged  Maryland  pretty  well,  about 
the  8th  of  July,  the  Southern  raiding  force,  some  thou 
sand  strong,  appeared  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mono- 
cacy,  some  miles  from  Baltimore.  Here  General  Lewis 
Wallace  (the  author  since  of  Ben  Hur}  and  other  pro 
ductions  of  merit),  advanced  against  him  with  General 
Ricketts  in  command  of  one  division  of  the  6th  Corps. 
These  forces,  on  July  pth,  were  defeated  by  the  enemy, 
who  then  moved  against  Washington,  and  there  made 
their  appearance,  I  think  on  July  nth. 

I  can  give  you  but  a  faint  idea  of  the  panic  which 
their  advent  created.  Washington  at  that  time  had  no 
garrison  of  trained  or  experienced  troops,  either  regular 
or  volunteer.  We  all  whistled  to  keep  our  courage  up, 
and  whistled,  too,  very  loud.  The  President,  had,  in 
deed,  called  on  several  Governors  of  northern  states  for 
troops.  These  were  being  raised,  but  so  far  had  not 
yet  arrived.  The  garrison  of  the  belt  of  forts  surround 
ing  Washington  had  been  stripped  of  troops  to  reinforce 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  during  the  Wilderness  cam 
paign.  These  men  were  the  heavy  artillery  from  Massa 
chusetts  and  New  York  chiefly,  whom  I  had  seen  en 
gaged  in  the  fight  near  Anderson's  house.  They  fought 
as  infantry. 

So  at  the  Capitol,  we  kept  our  pens  driving  merrily, 
and  the  Secretary  of  War  directed  that  all  the  orderlies, 
messengers,  military  riffraff,  the  invalids,  veteran  re 
serve,  and  indeed  every  man  in  Government  employ, 
who  could  put  on  a  uniform,  or  carry  a  musket,  should 
turn  out  in  defence  of  the  capital  of  his  country,  and 
a  sorry  lot  they  were.  They  laid  down  their  pens,  and 
off  they  went  to  "report"  for  military  duty.  My  clerks 


280  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

went  too,  from  my  office,  but  they  were  a  mild-man 
nered  set,  and  I  assume  they  would  never  have  hurt 
anybody,  not  even  in  self-defence. 

In  the  offices,  everybody  tried  to  appear  very  busy, 
no  one  would  admit  ideas  of  danger,  but  yet  everyone 
was  at  heart  afraid.  I  learned  from  a  very  trustworthy 
source,  that  even  the  Secretary  of  War,  the  redoubtable 
Mr.  Edwin  M.  Stanton,  thought  so  gravely  of  the  situa 
tion,  as  to  send  his  silver  and  valuables  aboard  a  gun 
boat.  This  information  reached  me  through  a  clerk. 
In  Washington,  the  Brotherhood  of  Clerks  knew  every 
thing,  the  most  secret  acts,  and  even  thoughts,  of  men, 
very  high  in  position,  men  who  never  forgot  themselves, 
or  committed  an  indiscretion  with  their  equals  or  su 
periors  in  station,  but  who  with  their  confidential  clerks, 
were  sometimes  a  little  leaky.  My  head  clerk  was  most 
popular  among  his  fellows,  gentle-mannered,  silent,  and 
insinuating  in  manners,  the  very  man  to  invite  con 
fidence,  as  it  were.  He  always  knew  the  hidden  coun 
sels  of  the  White  House,  and  the  Secretary's  office. 
He  was  proud  of  this  information,  especially  when  he 
had  obtained  it  by  ingenuity,  and  he  always  tried  to 
post  me  a  day  in  advance.  He  was  always  right.  His 
information  was  reliable  and  not  sensational,  and  I 
thus  learned  many  a  bit  of  gossip,  military  and  political, 
and  many  a  bit  of  early  news.  He  told  me  the  gunboat 
story,  which  he  said  was  very  private,  and  I  daresay 
he  was  very  near  the  truth. 

I  doubt  if  many  persons  in  the  North  ever  knew,  or 
knowing,  realized,  the  true  state  of  insecurity  in  Wash 
ington.  I  really  believe  that  five  hundred,  yes,  one 
hundred,  of  Early's  horses  could  have  ridden  into  and 
through  Washington,  and  captured  whom  they  chose, 
the  President  or  his  Cabinet,  or  even  myself. 


James  River  and  City  Point  281 

On  the  afternoon  on  which  the  enemy  appeared  be 
fore  Washington,  I  took  a  long  ride  alone,  from  near 
Rock  Creek,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Georgetown,  around 
beyond  the  Seventh  Street  Road,  passing  beneath  quite 
a  chain  of  earthworks  and  forts.  We  had  plenty  of 
works,  and  lots  of  rifle  trenches,  or  their  equivalents, 
but  they  were  manned  by  no  real  troops,  only  mes 
sengers,  convalescent  patients  from  the  hospitals,  all 
looking  and  feeling  very  uncomfortable,  and  distressed 
at  the  idea  of  passing  the  night  in  the  open  air,  and 
that,  too,  within  sight  of  their  own  boarding  houses, 
within  touch  almost  of  their  very  beds.  In  the  earth- 
forts,  which  were  well  located  and  strongly  built,  and 
provided  with  heavy  guns,  a  few  scattered  artillerymen 
were  stationed,  mostly  men  from  light  batteries,  and 
occasionally  a  gun  would  be  fired  at  the  enemy,  who 
lay  a  mile  or  two  away  beyond  our  works.  A  bronze 
stripping  from  one  of  these  big  shells,  fired  from  a 
siege  gun,  just  above  my  head,  fell  on  the  ground  close 
by  me.  I  picked  it  up,  a  crooked,  ragged  piece  of 
metal. 

The  forts,  as  I  have  said,  were  maintained  with  large 
guns,  siege  guns,  as  they  were  called,  and  every  pre 
caution  was  taken  to  insure  their  accurate  fire,  the  dis 
tance  of  all  points  within  range  being  accurately  cal 
culated;  these  distances,  and  the  name  of  the  locality 
were  printed  on  the  stage  of  each  gun.  Let  us  take  a 
place  called  Smith's  House,  distant  one  and  a  half 
measured  miles  from  the  fort.  Some  such  inscription 
as  this  would  be  attached  to  the  gun  carriage :  "Smith's 
house,  i~y2  miles:  Elevation  of  gun  3  degrees:  Charge 
for  the  gun  i  Ib.  powder;  Time  fuse  for  shell  4  seconds." 

Thus  an  artillery  man  having  this  information,  and 
knowing  his  business,  could  so  train  his  gun,  mechanic- 


282  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

ally  as  it  were,  as  to  make  very  certain  firing.  A  group 
of  rebel  and  southern  cavalry  was  standing  in  the  middle 
of  a  road,  about  a  mile  from  a  fort,  and  exactly  in  front 
of  a  registered  locality,  Smith's  house,  I  think  it  was. 
A  young  light  artillery  man  from  the  West,  was  on 
duty  in  the  fort ;  he  trained  a  gun  by  the  legends  printed 
on  the  traverse,  and  the  shell  burst  exactly  in  front  of 
the  house,  and  apparently  in  the  road,  scattering  the 
group.  I  could  not  tell  whether  anyone  was  hurt,  but 
the  shot  seemed  marvellously  well  directed. 

For  this  first  day,  or  a  part  of  it,  the  town  was  un 
protected,  but  later,  the  iQth  Corps  from  Louisiana, 
and  the  6th  (veteran)  Corps  from  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  arrived.  These  immediately  went  into  the 
trenches,  and  soon  made  their  presence  manifest  to  the 
enemy  by  the  lively  cracks  of  their  rifles.  On  the  fol 
lowing  day,  early  in  the  morning,  some  skirmishing 
took  place,  and  the  enemy  finally  seeing  that  Washing 
ton  had  been  succored,  and  that  any  attempt  to  capture 
it  could  not  succeed,  slowly  withdrew,  followed  by  the 
6th  Corps,  under  General  Wright.  On  the  morning 
before  they  withdrew,  I  rode  out  to  the  scene  of  hos 
tilities  in  company  with  Dr.  Wm.  Thomson  and  Dr. 
Wm.  Norris,  of  Philadelphia.  They  were  at  that  time 
both  assistant  surgeons  in  the  regular  army.  Dr.  Thom 
son  had  charge  of  the  Douglas  Hospital  in  Washington, 
and  Dr.  Norris  was  on  duty  under  him.  We  rode  out 
by  Seventh  Street  Road,  I  think.  The  enemy  were  at 
that  time  in  full  force  on  the  opposite  hills,  and  their 
firing  was  brisk.  Our  6th  Corps  troops  in  the  trenches 
replied  rapidly.  Our  presence,  three  mounted  officers, 
at  once  attracted  the  enemy's  attention,  and  we  became 
the  object  of  their  sharpshooter's  fire.  They  were  scat 
tered  in  the  open  fields,  in  front  of  the  wooded  ridges 


James  River  and  City  Point  283 

occupied  By  their  main  body.  Some  of  their  sharp 
shooters  had  cleverly  concealed  and  protected  them 
selves  by  fence  rails,  piled  at  an  angle,  and  they  fired 
with  most  provoking  deliberation.  One  or  two  shots 
struck  the  ground  close  by  our  horses'  feet.  For  my 
part,  I  (who  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  fighting,  while 
my  two  companions  had  not  seen  any)  felt  quite  keenly 
the  danger  of  the  situation.  It  is  not  at  all  pleasant  to 
be  a  target  for  an  enterprising  and  skilful  marksman, 
who,  in  comparative  safety,  fires  at  his  leisure.  I  con 
fess  I  wanted  to  get  away,  especially  as  I  had  little 
confidence  in  my  horse,  the  wicked  one,  who  seemed  to 
have  a  devilish  comprehension  of  the  situation,  and 
evidently  wanted  to  bolt  toward  the  enemy.  I  was  de 
lighted  afterwards  at  the  conduct  of  a  6th  Corps  Ser 
geant,  who  seeing  the  shot  and  the  dust  from  the  bullets, 
fired  by  one  particular  "reb,"  came  towards  us,  and 
saluting,  said,  "Gentlemen,  foolish  exposure  is  not 
bravery,  you  had  better  ride  back  and  get  under  cover." 
How  I  have  respected  that  man !  I  have  never  forgotten 
him,  and  I  can  see  his  face  this  minute.  My  comrades 
saw  the  good  sense  of  his  remarks,  and  we  returned  be 
yond  the  range  of  the  one  persevering  Johnny  Reb, 
hidden  behind  his  rails.  So  we  went  home  and  dined. 

Thomson,  who  rode  out  the  next  morning  after  the 
enemy  had  retired,  told  me  that  he  had  found  the  poor 
"reb,"  who  had  singled  us  out  for  his  attentions,  lying 
still,  behind  his  rails,  with  a  bullet  hole  through  his 
forehead.  He  had  been  spied  out,  and  shot,  by  a  6th 
Corps  man,  who  could  not  resist  the  chance.  Poor  fel 
low,  I  absolutely  felt  sorry  for  him,  although  he  did 
try  to  kill  us.  He  seemed  so  cool  and  saucy,  ensconced 
in  his  hiding-place,  so  far  in  advance  of  his  friends. 

So  this  is  what  I  saw  of  Early's  raid  on  Washington. 


284  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brlnton 

By  the  evening  of  the  I2th  of  July,  the  enemy  were  all 
away,  and  Washington  was  as  safe  as  ever. 

In  a  letter  to  my  Mother  from  Washington,  dated 
July  14,  1864,  I  wrote:  "So  the  siege  is  raised,  and 
Johnny  Reb  is  off.  We  had  quite  a  sharp  fight.  Fancy 
dining,  smoking  a  cigar,  riding  out  leisurely,  looking  at 
the  whole  performance,  within  a  few  hundred  yards, 
and  when  the  fighting  was  over,  going  back  to  a  cup  of 
coffee.  I  saw  all  the  fighting  here;  it  was  quite  brisk 
and  very  exciting,  bullets  whizzing  all  around.  We 
lost  about  350  men.  The  New  York  Herald  has  just 
arrived;  we  have  had  none  for  four  days.  I  am  well 
as  usual.  Our  blessed  forts  stood  us  in  good  stead. 
I  sat  on  my  horse  just  in  front  of  one  of  them,  and 
heard  the  big  shells  screaming  twenty  feet  above  my 
head.  The  whole  affair  was  very  curious.  There  was 
not  a  great  deal  of  excitement,  everybody  was  prepared, 
and  a  hard  fight  was  expected.  We  had  a  good  many 
men.  The  current  here  is  against  Grant,  but  you  know 
I  prophesied  a  panic  against  him  long  ago;  but  he  will 
not  be  shaken  from  his  course,  I  am  sure." 

The  months  of  July  and  August,  1864,  I  spent  in 
Washington,  with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  trips  to 
New  York  and  Philadelphia,  on  business  connected  with 
the  art  department  of  the  Museum.  In  the  latter  part 
of  the  summer,  a  photographic  bureau  was  added  to 
the  Museum,  and  I  had  to  see  to  engaging  the  proper 
artists  and  outfit.  I  succeeded  after  much  trouble  in 
procuring  an  excellent  artist,  named  Bell,  and  much  of 
his  work  figures  in  the  volumes  of  the  Medical  and 
Surgical  History  of  the  War. 

And  here,  perhaps,  it  would  be  well  to  say  a  little 
about  the  means  to  which  resort  was  had  to  obtain  the 
illustrations  for  that  great  work.  When  I  first  went 


James  River  and  City  Point  285 

on  duty  at  the  Surgeon-General's  office,  and  had  com 
mitted  to  me  the  preparation  of  the  Surgical  History 
of  the  War,  I  set  about  finding  for  myself  an  artist. 
Our  views  at  that  time  were  not  very  extended,  and  the 
means  at  the  disposal  of  the  Surgeon-General  for  that 
purpose  were  rather  limited.  The  supply  of  artists  in 
Washington  available  for  my  purposes  was  not  very 
great.  The  only  person  I  could  at  first  lay  my  hands 
on  was  a  German  artist,  who  had  been  on  topographical 
duty  in  the  War  Department  (his  name  was  Pohlers), 
excellent  in  his  line,  but  not  capable  of  drawing  and 
coloring  from  the  human  figure.  The  maps,  however, 
which  he  reduced  and  reproduced  from  the  larger  maps 
of  the  topographical  engineers  were  very  accurate  and 
beautiful.  The  positions  of  the  field  hospitals  and  points 
of  medical  interest  were  furnished  by  the  medical  officers 
on  duty  at  the  different  actions  and  localities.  Most  of 
these  field  maps  were  drawn  under  my  supervision.  You 
will  see  them  in  the  appendix  to  the  Medical  Volume, 
Part  I.  of  the  Medical  and  Surgical  History  of  the 
Rebellion.  They  have  the  name,  "A.  Pohlers  del'*  at 
the  bottom.  Pohlers  remained  on  duty  with  me  while 
I  was  in  Washington,  employed  on  map  work. 

E.  Stauch  was  a  German  water-colorist.  His  work 
was  very  fine,  and  his  coloring  exquisite.  He  came  to 
me  in  the  early  part  of  1863,  or  the  end  of  1862.  He 
accompanied  me  in  several  visits  to  the  army  in  the 
field,  and  frequently  visited  the  hospitals  with  me,  es 
pecially  to  make  pictures  and  sketches  of  the  hospital 
gangrene  cases,  occurring  in  our  troops  sent  north  and 
exchanged  from  the  Southern  prisons.  His  colored  pic 
tures,  which  were  done  in  oil,  are  faithfully  delineated 
in  Surgical  volumes,  Parts  II  and  III,  of  the  Medical 
and  Surgical  History  of  the  War.  With  one  or  two 


286  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

exceptions,  all  of  the  colored  pictures  in  the  work  are 
from  the  pencil  and  brush  of  Stauch.  He  was  a  most 
excellent  artist,  and  when  in  a  good  humor,  or  well 
satisfied,  could,  and  would,  work  well,  and  with  tolerable 
rapidity.  Like  so  many  artists,  however,  he  was  ca 
pricious  and  irritable,  and  when  these  fits  were  on  him, 
he  could  not  be  depended  on.  When  I  took  him  with 
me  to  the  army,  I  always  took  great  care  of  his  bed 
and  food,  far  more  than  I  did  of  my  own.  I  worked 
with  him  thus.  I  first  selected  the  patients  to  be  pic 
tured  on  the  field  or  in  the  hospital.  Then  the  point  of 
injury,  say  the  wounds  of  entrance,  were  carefully 
painted  by  Stauch  in  oil.  Next  a  pencil  outline  sketch 
was  taken  of  the  general  locality.  This  work  he  did 
with  great  rapidity,  and  then  when  he  reached  Washing 
ton  again,  the  beautiful  pictures  you  will  see  in  the 
Surgical  History  were  elaborated. 

I  was  very  desirous  of  obtaining  a  full  and  perfect 
series  of  wounds  of  entrance  and  exit,  of  round  bullets, 
and  conical  projectiles,  freshly  taken.  To  get  these,  it 
was  necessary  to  have  an  artist  well  to  the  front,  while 
fighting  was  going  on.  This  seemed  at  first  almost  im 
possible,  but  I  finally  arranged  it  thus.  When  the  troops 
under  General  Grant,  occupied  the  line  stretching  from 
City  Point  to  Petersburg,  heavy  fighting  was  of  every 
day  occurrence.  Bomb-proofs,  too,  had  been  erected, 
well  forward,  to  which  the  wounded  were  carried  for 
the  first  surgical  attentions.  In  my  office,  a  young  medical 
officer,  and  acting-assistant-surgeon,  named  Porter  (a 
relative  of  Admiral  Porter),  was  on  duty.  He  was  a 
singularly  brave  young  man,  cool  in  danger,  and  always 
having  his  head  about  him.  He  suggested  to  me  to 
let  him  go  to  the  front  with  Stauch,  the  artist,  saying 
that  when  some  sharp  fighting  should  take  place,  he  would 


James  River  and  City  Point  287 

"run"  the  artist  into  the  bombproof,  and  then  as  the 
wounded  should  come  in,  he  (Porter)  would  make 
choice  of  suitable  cases,  and  the  sketches  and  paintings 
could  be  immediately  made,  with  a  certain  knowledge 
of  the  time  which  elapsed  since  the  reception  of  the 
wound.  This  plan  was  put  into  force — Porter,  the 
artist,  and  an  orderly  went  down  to  City  Point,  and 
succeeded,  with  some  trouble,  and  the  loss  of  a  horse, 
and  I  think,  too,  at  the  cost  of  a  gunshot  wound  to 
the  guide,  or  worse,  in  reaching  the  protected  casemate 
or  proof  to  which  the  wounded  were  being  carried. 
Here  forty-seven  oil  sketches  were  taken,  which  are 
reproduced  at  pages  712  and  714  of  the  Part  III,  Sur 
gical  Volume  of  the  Medical  and  Surgical  History  of 
the  War.  Magnificent  sketches  they  are,  and  truthful. 
Unfortunately,  one  thing  is  wanting.  Each  pair  of 
wounds  of  entrance  and  exit,  or  singly,  if  but  one,  should 
be  represented  in  a  picture,  showing  the  precise  locality 
and  the  contour  of  the  part  injured.  Such  a  series  of 
sketches  in  lead  pencil,  adapted  for  future  elaborations, 
was  in  fact  made  by  the  artist  at  that  time.  On  emerg 
ing  from  the  bombproof  and  his  perilous  duty,  the  artist 
came  to  Washington,  and  leaving  there  the  precious 
block  of  oils  in  the  office,  and  stating  that  he  had  the 
supplementary  sketches  in  his  possession,  received  per 
mission  to  visit  his  home  in  Philadelphia  on  promise  to 
return  in  a  day  or  two.  Not  returning,  I  was  sent  to 
look  him  up,  if  possible,  when  I  learned  through  the 
death  records  of  the  Board  of  Health  that  he  had  died 
of  an  illness  of  a  day  or  two's  duration,  the  exact 
nature  of  which  was  not  known,  and  was  probably  of 
some  nervous  type,  the  result  of  exposure  or  of  mental 
disturbance.  The  key  of  this  series  of  pictures  was  not 
found  during  my  stay  at  Washington,  and  I  imagine 


288  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

that  the  description  in  small  type  on  page  712  has  been 
supplied  from  notes  rather  than  from  pictorial  repre 
sentations.  I  may,  however,  be  wrong  in  this  idea.  At 
all  events,  the  series  of  wounds  of  entrance  and  exit,  are 
not  presented  in  the  manner  I  had  designed  when  my 
attempt  to  arrange  for  their  production  was  made. 

In  1864,  my  friend,  Gideon  Scull,  was  ordered  from 
Washington  by  the  Secretary  of  War.  Captain  Scull 
was  much  attached  to  Mr.  Pierce  Butler,  of  Philadelphia, 
who  on  account  of  his  supposed  Southern  feeling  or 
sympathy,  was  not  kindly  regarded  by  the  Secretary  of 
War,  and  indeed,  I  believe  he  at  one  time  was  arrested 
by  Mr.  Stanton's  order.  The  Secretary,  having  learned 
of  Mr.  Scull's  presence  in  Washington  (for  he  was  a 
most  capable  officer,  and  was  on  duty  in  the  office  of  the 
Commissary  General  of  Subsistence)  personally  ordered 
his  detail  to  the  West  at  St.  Louis,  with,  if  my  memory 
is  correct,  a  special  direction  that,  once  there,  he  should 
be  assigned  to  an  army  in  the  field,  for  poor  Scull  had 
rheumatism,  and  the  Secretary  knew  it.  Scull  was  what 
was  then  called  a  "white  elephant,"  and  when  I  said 
good-bye,  I  remember  very  well  that  I  told  him,  "I 
soon,  too,  will  be  a  white  elephant,  and  will  follow  you." 
In  the  end  prophecy  proved  true. 

About  this  time,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  grumbling 
in  Washington  about  General  Grant.  He  had  not  many 
friends  amongst  the  Army  of  Potomac  men.  They  were 
all  McClellan  men,  and  insisted  that  Grant  was  only 
treading  the  same  path  followed  by  McClellan,  and  that 
his  bloody  victories  were  fruitless.  They  did  not  like 
him,  and  had  no  confidence  in  him.  The  Northern  peo 
ple,  as  a  mass,  believed  in  him;  the  Eastern,  especially 
the  troops  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  did  not.  I,  how 
ever,  could  not  forget  his  exploits  in  the  West,  and  the 


James  River  and  City  Point  289 

untiring  bulldog  perseverance  he  there  exhibited.  In  a 
letter  to  my  Mother  of  September  8,  1864,  which  I 
quote,  I  wrote:  "You  may  be  sure  that  Grant  will 
succeed ;  he  cannot  fail ;  my  confidence  in  him  is  the  same 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
SHERIDAN'S  CAMPAIGN  AND  FIELD  WORK 

About  the  2oth  of  September,  1864,  I  was  sent  to 
the  Valley  of  Virginia.  This  was  then  the  condition  of 
affairs :  In  the  latter  days  of  July  and  early  August, 
a  cavalry  raid  had  been  made  by  the  enemy  across  the 
Potomac  and  Maryland  into  Pennsylvania.  The  town 
of  Chambersburg  was  burned,  and  the  enemy  withdrew 
into  Virginia.  At  this  time,  General  Sheridan,  by 
Grant's  order,  was  placed  in  command  of  a  considerable 
force  on  the  upper  Potomac,  from  Harper's  Ferry  west 
ward  and  southward.  He  was  opposed  by  the  southern 
general  Early,  and  a  good  deal  of  manoeuvring  took 
place.  On  the  iQth  of  September,  1864,  occurred  Sheri 
dan's  famous  ride  from  Winchester  and  the  attack  and 
defeat  of  the  enemy  at  Cedar  Creek,  and  on  the  23rd 
of  the  same  month  at  Fisher's  Hill,  not  far  from  the 
town  of  Woodstock.  The  enemy's  wounded  fell  into 
Sheridan's  hands,  and  were  scattered  over  a  large  area 
of  country.  He  also  captured  a  large  number  of  prison 
ers,  many  of  whom  were  sent  back  to  Winchester.  The 
devastation  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley  and  the  Valley  of 
Virginia  then  followed,  the  country  being  rendered  use 
less  to  the  enemy  as  a  base  of  military  operations  or 
for  material  supplies.  In  fact  it  was  left  in  such  a 
state,  that  to  use  fhe  words  of  Sheridan,  "A  carrion 
crow  in  his  flight  across  must  either  carry  his  rations 
or  starve."  War's  stern  necessity! 

290 


Sheridan  s  Campaign  and  Field  Work    291 
The  following  was  my  order: 

"Surgeon  General's  Office,  Washington  City,  D.  C. 

Sept.  20th,  1864. 
Sir: 

I  am  instructed  by  the  Surgeon  General  to  direct  you 
to  proceed  without  delay,  to  Winchester,  Va.,  and  take 
charge  of  the  wounded  at  that  place  temporarily,  report 
ing  your  arrival  there  by  letter  to  the  Medical  Director 
at  the  Headquarters  of  Major  General  Sheridan.  Sur 
geons  McKay,  Hayden,  U.  S.  Vols. ;  Asst.  Surgeon 
Carter,  U.  S.  A. ;  Stone,  U.  S.  Vols.,  and  Acting  Asst. 
Surgeon  Porter  will  be  ordered  to  report  to  you  for  duty. 

Ten  of  the  most  competent  Acting  Asst.  Surgeons  on 
duty  in  Baltimore,  and  five  from  Philadelphia,  are  also 
ordered  to  proceed  at  once  to  Winchester,  and  to  re 
port  to  the  chief  Medical  Officer. 

Very  respy.  yr.  obt.  servt. 

By  order  of  the  Surg.  Genl. 

(sd)     C.  H.  CRANE, 

Surg.  U.  S.  A. 

Surg.  J.  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  V. 
Present." 

At  the  time  at  which  I  received  the  foregoing  order, 
the  state  of  the  road  to  Harper's  Ferry  was  very  un 
certain.  However,  as  the  supply  of  medical  officers  at 
Winchester  was  insufficient,  and  as  the  number  of 
wounded  was  unknown,  although  supposed  to  be  large, 
the  Secretary  of  War  ordered  that  my  special  train 
should  have  the  right  of  way,  and  that  we  should  make 
the  best  time  possible.  We  left  Washington  on  the 
evening  of  Tuesday,  the  24th  of  September,  1864.  At 
the  depot,  Surgeons  Hayden,  McKay  and  Porter,  and 
two  or  three  hospital  stewards,  reported  to  me  for  duty. 


292  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Accordingly  we  started,  and  telegraphing  from  the  Re 
lay  House  to  have  all  opposing  trains  stopped  and  the 
only  track  to  be  cleared,  we  went  forward  at  high  speed. 
Some  of  the  Baltimore  doctors  joined  us  at  the  Relay, 
and  we  reached  Harper's  Ferry  in  a  short  time,  about 
noon.  Here,  I  saw  the  ruin  of  some  sixty  or  seventy 
locomotives.  They  had  been  purposely  run  off  the  end 
of  the  bridge,  and  were  then  burned  in  one  ghastly  heap 
of  ruins.  I  have  never  before  or  since  seen  such  a 
horrible  scene  of  wanton  destruction.  The  entire  ap 
pearance  of  the  town  was  poverty-stricken  and  war 
worn,  on  one  day  in  the  occupancy  of  one,  and  on  the 
next,  of  the  other,  contending  armies.  All  the  better 
class  of  people  had  fled,  and  only  a  few  of  the  poorest 
whites  and  a  few  of  the  negroes  were  left.  The  arsenal, 
barracks,  and  public  buildings  had  long  since  been  burned, 
and  all  air  of  prosperity  had  passed  away.  I  saw  the 
commanding  officers  of  our  troops  there  and  learning 
that  a  wagon-train  with  escort  of  cavalry  was  about 
to  start,  joined  it  with  my  doctors. 

We  pushed  along  the  well-travelled  road,  and  passed 
Charlestown.  I  had  a  long  wagon-train  of  medical  sup 
plies,  and  in  a  kind  of  way  was  commander  of  the 
party.  We  left  Harper's  Ferry  at  10  A.M.,  September 
2ist,  and  reached  Winchester  at  9.30  P.M.  Having  a 
strong  guard,  sufficient  to  protect  us  from  the  guerillas 
who  infested  all  roads,  we  felt  no  apprehensions.  Our 
feelings  of  safety  were  shared  by  a  number  of  settlers 
and  camp  followers,  who  would  join  our  train  and  avail 
themselves  of  our  protection.  One  or  two  of  these  peo 
ple  were  peddlers.  I  recollect  one  man  particularly,  a 
Jewish  peddler,  with  a  black  and  red  wagon.  He  was 
a  cunning  fellow  in  his  way,  and  with  his  heavily  laden 
one-horse  wagon,  would  place  himself  in  our  front  and 


Sheridan's  Campaign  and  Field  Work    293 

would  dawdle  along,  at  the  pace  suitable  to  his  own 
poor  overloaded,  overworked  beast.  Finally,  on  a  hill 
side,  close  to  a  wood,  his  wagon  became  stalled  in  a 
cut  in  the  road,  and  the  whole  train  not  being  able  to 
pass  was  brought  to  a  standstill.  This  would  not  do,  so 
I  ordered  the  man  to  shove  his  cart  on  a  bank  on  one 
side  of  the  road,  and  we  hurried  on,  despite  his  prayers 
and  imprecations,  at  being  left  behind.  We  told  him 
to  fall  in  at  the  rear  which  he  promised  to  do,  but 
somehow  he  must  have  lagged  behind,  for  the  next  day 
after  I  reached  Winchester,  the  Captain  of  the  first  train 
following  our  wake,  said  to  me,  "Doctor,  we  found  a 
peddler's  wagon  thrown  off  the  bank;  the  peddler  had 
his  throat  cut,  and  lay  dead  beneath  it;  the  contents  of 
the  wagon  had  been  carried  off,  and  all  we  found  in 
it  was  this  little  leather-covered  portfolio,"  and  he  gave 
it  to  me,  one  of  the  cheap  little  portfolios  soldiers  liked 
to  buy  in  those  days,  and  which  is  now  somewhere  about 
the  house  as  I  write. 

On  arriving  at  Winchester,  I  assumed  charge  of  the 
wounded  who  were  coming  in  from  the  neighborhood 
of  Woodstock,  where  Sheridan  had  defeated  the  enemy 
in  one  or  two  engagements,  notably  at  Fisher's  Hill. 
(For  a  day  or  two,  I  did  the  best  I  could  for  them  in 
the  hotel  and  church  hospitals  where  I  found  them,  and 
which  had  been  hastily  extemporized.  It  was  indeed 
a  difficult  matter  to  care  for  them.  On  the  25th  of 
September,  the  wounded  in  Winchester  numbered  4,201, 
and  commissary  and  medical  supplies  had  to  be  brought 
up  from  Harper's  Ferry  and  Martinsburg.  The  rail 
road  to  these  places  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  roads 
were  infested  with  guerillas,  and  only  practicable  with 
strong  escorts./  So  troublesome  were  these  gentry,  that 
it  was  not  safe  to  ride  a  mile  beyond  our  lines  without 


294  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

a  guard,  and  we  were  practically  cut  off  from  obtaining 
the  commonest  supplies  from  the  adjacent  country. 
However,  I  did  the  best  I  could  for  the  wounded  I  found 
in  the  hospital,  making  use  of  everything  I  had,  and 
making  requisitions,  and  bringing  up  fresh  mounts  by 
wagon. 

(  In  a  few  hours,  sanitarians  and  worse,  sanitary  and 
"Christian  women"  began  to  arrive.  Good  women- 
nurses  were  a  godsend;  those  who  would  really  nurse 
and  work,  do  what  they  were  told,  make  no  pets,  and 
give  no  trouble.  On  the  other  hand,  the  fussy  female, 
intent  on  notoriety  and  glorying  in  her  good  works, 
fond  of  washing  the  faces  of  "our  boys"  and  of  writ 
ing  letters  home,  glorifying  herself; — she  was  not  god- 
sent;  in  fact  we  all  regarded  her  as  having  a  very 
different  origin)  One  of  such  creatures  I  was  blest  with 
at  Winchester/  She  was  a  friend  of  Mrs.  Stanton,  the 
wife  of  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  took  care  to  let  every 
one  know  of  the  fact,  and  boasted  a  good  deal  of  her 
influence  with  the  Secretary  and  of  the  information 
she  gave  him.  Knowing  his  harshness,  and  ruthless- 
ness,  and  impetuous  injustice,  I  felt  very  much  afraid  of 
this  woman  for  a  day  or  two.  She  used  to  wear  an 
india-rubber  waterproof,  and  created  discontent  and 
disorder  wherever  she  went.  The  men  all  saw  and 
recognized  her  weakness.  I  remember  that  she  made  a 
special  pet  of  one  wretched  malingerer.  She  followed 
me  for  hours,  saying  that  "the  poor  boy  would  relish 
an  omelet."  I  told  her,  "that  I  had  no  eggs,  but  that 
I  thought  she  could  get  them  at  a  farm-house,  just 
outside  the  lines;  if  she  liked  I  would  send  her  there." 
I  was  much  in  hopes  that  some  of  Mosby's  men  would 
catch  her.  She  was  too  sharp,  and  wouldn't  go,  but 
she  left  me,  kindly  muttering  her  intentions  to  "let  her 


Sheridan's  Campaign  and  Field  Work    295 

friend  the  Secretary  of  War  know  how  badly  the 
wounded  boys  were  treated."  I  took  an  opportunity, 
too,  of  sending  off  that  malingerer,  without  ever  giv 
ing  her  an  opportunity  of  saying  bood-bye.  His  com 
rades  understood  the  matter,  and  regarded  my  little  joke 
with  favor. 

(In  taking  care  of  all  these  men,  being  without  the 
usual  medical  and  sanitary  (I  don't  mean  Sanitary 
Commission)  stores,  I  was  obliged  by  pure  necessity 
to  lay  violent  hands  on  everything  I  could  find  in  the 
town  of  Winchester,  the  property  of  the  citizens,) and 
here  it  is  that  I  approach  that  all-important  subject,  Mrs. 
Washington's  brass  kettle.  You  must  know  that  the 
great  thing  in  feeding  sick  people  is  to  possess  the  proper 
means  of  cooking,  and  the  chief  means  of  something  to 
cook  with,  namely,  pots,  pans  and  kettles.  Now,  I 
found  the  newly  improvised  hospital  at  Winchester  town, 
destitute  of  all  culinary  apparatus.  I  appealed  to  the 
Mayor  of  the  place,  in  fact,  made  a  requisition  on  him 
for  kettles.  Strange  to  say,  it  was  reported  to  me  that 
there  were  no  kettles.  They  had  all  suddenly  and  mys 
teriously  disappeared.  Luckily,  for  me,  as  I  was  walk 
ing  through  a  back  alley,  I  spied  an  iron  pot,  which 
had  been  stuck  on  a  paling  fence  to  dry,  just  outside 
the  kitchen  door.  I  instantly  stepped  in,  and  proceeded 
to  confiscate  it  on  the  spot.  "What,  take  my  only 
kettle,"  said  the  sour-faced,  poverty-stricken  woman. 
"Why  don't  you  take  the  rich  people's  things,  and  let 
the  poor  alone?"  "Why,"  said  I,  "there  are  no  rich 
people,  and  there  are  no  kettles  in  town."  "None," 
said  she,  "why,  there  are  plenty.  Take  Mrs.  Washing 
ton's  kettle,  that's  brass,  and  the  best  and  biggest  one 
in  town.  I'll  show  you  where  they  keep  it."  I  saw  at 
once  an  opening.  "Now,"  said  I,  "I'll  tell  you  what 


296  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Erinton 

I'll  do.  If  you  tell  me  where  all  the  good  kettles  and 
good  cooking  things  are,  I'll  let  yours  alone."  She 
jumped  at  the  chance,  and  soon  I  knew  exactly  who 
owned  the  big  preserving  jars,  and  where  they  were. 
Under  my  friend's  vigilant  direction  (she  was  a  poor 
white),  Mrs.  Washington's  kettle  was  soon  playing  its 
part  in  soup-making  for  the  hospital,  and  more  of  its 
companions  were  quickly  in  like  manner  pressed  into 
this  new  duty  of  helping  to  furnish  good  food  for 
hated  "Yankees."  And  strange  to  say,  as  soon  as  one 
or  two  kettles  were  seized  by  martial  process,  every 
woman  in  town  seemed  to  be  willing  to  tell  of  her  neigh 
bor  to  save  herself.  Of  course,  I  had  plenty  of  com 
plaints,  and  visits  from  indignant  dames,  some  complain 
ing,  some  threatening,  and  some  appealing  to  my 
sympathy,  some  even  on  the  ground  of  acquaintance  in 
their  girlish  days  when  they  were  in  school  in  Philadel 
phia  at  Picots,  or  Mrs.  Gardelle's;  but  somehow  I  sur 
vived  the  War  of  the  Kettles. 

£  After  reporting  by  letter  to  Surgeon  Chiselin,  Gen 
eral  Sheridan's  Medical  Director,  I  received  instructions 
to  forward  the  wounded  north,  both  Union  and  Rebel, 
and  to  send  supplies  to  the  front  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
At  the  same  time,  I  was  to  establish  a  large  tent  hospital 
on  a  plateau  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  town,  near 
a  fine  spring  and  stream  of  running  water.  The  hospital 
was  to  be  of  a  capacity  of  four  to  five  thousand  beds, 
and  to  be  well  equipped.  I  therefore  made,  by  tele 
graph,  requisition  on  the  Surgeon-General's  office  for, 
I  think,  500  tents,  each  tent  holding  comfortably  eight 
sick  beds.  I  also  made  requisition  in  the  same  way  for 
500  stoves,  and  these,  I  was  told,  would  be  (and  indeed 
were)  promptly  sent  me,  for  in  a  few  hours,  the  wagon- 
trains  containing  them  began  to  arrive,  j  To  pitch  500 


Sheridan  s  Campaign  and  Field  Work    297 

tents  (hospital  tents)  was  no  slight  matter.  I  was 
directed  to  call  upon  the  post  commandant  at  Win 
chester  for  the  necessary  details  of  men.  Fortunately, 
I  had  been  so  long  on  duty  at  Washington  that  I  had 
learned  how  to  take  a  sufficiently  large  view  of  work 
to  be  done,  and  to  be  sufficiently  imperious  in  exacting 
the  assistance  of  others.  I  therefore,  called  upon  the 
Colonel  acting  as  a  Brigadier-General  in  command  at 
Winchester,  telling  him  I  wanted  men  to  pitch  tents. 
He  was  a  little  uppish,  as  behooved  his  dignity,  but  after 
some  hesitation,  he  said,  "Well,  Doctor,  I  will  give  you 
a  few  men;  how  many  do  you  want?"  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  his  astonishment  when  I  answered,  "At 
least  five  or  six  hundred  with  their  full  complement  of 
officers."  "Impossible,"  said  he,  "I  never  heard  of  such 
a  demand."  But  I  told  him  I  made  the  demand,  and 
should  do  so  in  writing,  and  instantly  report  his  answer 
by  telegraph  to  Washington,  as  I  was  acting  by  special 
orders  from  the  Surgeon-General's  office,  direct  from 
the  War  Department.  His  change  of  manner  was  im 
mediate.  "The  men  will  be  ready  in  the  early  morn 
ing,  and  the  officers  should  have  special  orders";  and 
so  it  was.  That  night,  September  24,  1864,  having 
previously  ridden  over  the  ground  and  marked  the 
boundary  of  the  hospital  to  be,  I  put  a  medical  officer 
in  charge,  and  drew  out  the  plan  of  the  hospital.  [The 
tents  were  to  be  pitched  free,  end  to  end,  between  wooden 
frameworks  for  the  attachment  of  the  tent  ropes,  and 
with  wide  streets.  This  would  have  formed  good  wards, 
capable  of  being  easily  heated  by  stoves,  and  well  ven 
tilated,  and  containing  about  twenty-five  patients  each) 
I  went  to  bed,  well  satisfied  with  my  plans,  leaving 
orders  to  start  work  at  the  earliest  hour  in  the  morning 
of  the  25th  of  September.  The  surgeon  in  charge  whom 


298  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

I  had  selected,  was  a  man  of  high  scientific  attainment, 
and  I  anticipated  a  superb  hospital.  In  the  morning,  as 
soon  as  I  had  dispatched  my  necessary  office  work,  I 
hurried  out  to  see  how  my  hospital  was  getting  along. 
On  reaching  the  ground,  I  found  what  looked  to  be 
a  series  of  canvas  tenpin  alleys,  long,  narrow,  snaky- 
looking  constructions.  My  precious  surgeon  had,  on 
his  own  responsibility,  changed  my  plans,  and  pitched 
six  hospital  tents  end  to  end  in  violation  of  every  sani 
tary  and  hygienic  consideration,  and  without  ventila 
tion,  either  inside  or  out.  I  was  stupefied  at  the  sight, 
but  the  mischief  was  done; — the  tents  were  up  and  time 
pressed.  All  that  I  could  do  was  to  order  the  third 
and  fourth  of  each  group  to  be  struck  down,  thus  form 
ing  a  central  narrow  street,  and  leaving  the  tents  in 
groups  of  two.  I  was  dreadfully  mortified  at  the  ap 
pearance,  but  I  ordered  the  remaining  tents  to  be  prop 
erly  pitched,  despite  the  resulting  unsymmetrical  appear 
ance  which  was  thus  given  to  the  whole  company.  It 
was  the  best  I  could  do  under  the  circumstances.  After 
this,  the  equipment  of  the  hospital  was  rapidly  pushed 
and  the  occupation  by  patients  effected.  To  give  an  idea 
of  what  I  did  at  Winchester,  I  insert  a  copy  of  my 
report  to  the  Surgeon-General : 

"Winchester,  Va.,  Sept.  26th,  1864. 
General  :— 

I  have  already  forwarded  you  telegrams,  indicating 
my  action  here.  I  have  the  honor  now  to  report  more 
fully.  On  my  arrival  here  on  the  ru'ght  of  June  2ist,  I 
found  matters  in  much  confusion.  CEvery  exertion  pos 
sible  has  been  made  by  Assistant  Surgeon  General 
DuBois,  U.  S.  A.  in  charge,  of  the  hospitals,  to  systema 
tize  relief  for  the  wounded,  but  the  scanty  supplies,  the 
filthy  condition  of  the  town,  and  the  number  of  the 


Sheridan  s  Campaign  and  Field  Work    299 

wounded,  rendered  the  matter  one  of  extreme  difficulty. 
By  the  morning  of  the  22nd,  all  of  the  wounded  were 
collected  from  the  houses  near  the  field,  and  were  brought 
to  hospitals  in  or  near  the  town,  and  within  our  picket 
lines.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  22nd,  188  hospital  tents 
arrived  by  wagons.)  I  directed  these  to  be  pitched  in  an 
eligible  situation,  close  to  a  fine  spring  near  the  town,  and 
placed  Surgeon  Hayden,  U.  S.  V.,  in  charge.  108  tents 
have  arrived  since  and  are  being  pitched, — in  all  296. 
104  tents,  the  balance  of  the  400  sent,  were  by  General 
Sheridan's  orders  pitched  aySandy  Hook  to  increase  the 
capacity  of  that  hospital.  (The  supply  of  medicine  in 
hospital  stores  has  been  exceedingly  scanty,  only  eight 
wagon  loads  having  as  yet  arrived,  and  these  were  rapidly 
exhausted.  A  train  is  now  on  the  way  hither.  Of 
blankets  and  hospital  clothing  we  have  none.  A\  I  directed 
Surgeon  Shields,  who  has  been  appointed  Purveyor  of 
the  Army,  to  obtain  5000  from  the  Quartermaster  at 
Harper's  Ferry.  I  also  instructed  him  to  make  a  requisi 
tion  on  the  Purveyor  at  Baltimore  for  such  additional 
supplies  as  he  might  stand  in  need  of.  Cooking  appa 
ratus,  etc.,  I  obtained  on  application  to  the  Provost  Mar 
shal.  Yesterday  morning,  the  25th  instant,  I  sent  1200 
wounded  to  Harper's  Ferry,  as  the  railroad  to  Washing 
ton  was  not  yet  opened. 

I  last  night  received  instructions  from  thei  Army 
Headquarters  to  send  off  all  light  cases,  Union  and 
Rebel,  to  Martinsburg.  Asst.  Surgeon  Ohhschloger  has 
been  assigned  to  duty  in  charge  of  transportation  at  that 
point.  The  severe  cases  I  am  instructed  to  place  in  the 
tents,  and  as  fast  as  the  latter  become  empty  to  transfer 
them  to  Martinsburg,  the  new  army  base. 

I  telegraphed  you  this  morning,  requesting  that  the 
Quartermaster's  Department  may  be  furnished  with  150 
wood  stoves,  suitable  for  hospital  tents.  The  weather  is 
becoming  cold,  the  town  is  overcrowded,  and  I  must  get 
the  wounded  into  the  tents  as  soon  as  possible.  There 


300  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Erinton 

probably  will  be  1500  men  who  cannot  be  moved  for 
some  weeks. 

P.  S.  Since  writing  the  foregoing,  a  large  train  of 
medical  supplies,  and  also  3000  blankets  have  arrived. 

Very  respfty.  yr.  Obt.  svt. 

J.  H.  BRINTON, 

Surg.  U.  S.  Vols.  Chf.  Medl.  Officer." 

My  time  in  Winchester  was  spent  in  very  hard  work, 
but  the  results  were  satisfactory  to  me.  I  had  all  ready 
in  forty-eight  hours,  and  this  was  the  largest  hospital 
of  the  war.  I  had  lodging  for  the  four  or  five  days  in 
a  store-keeper's  house.  Of  course,  nearly  everybody 
was  Southern  in  their  opinions.  They  hated  us,  but 
they  had  to  put  up  with  us,  and  indeed,  tried  their  best 
to  make  out  of  us  all  the  money  that  they  could.  There 
was,  however,  some  Union  feeling,  but  I  think  it  was 
confined  to  people  of  the  Quaker  descent,  who  had  a 
good  deal  of  the  business  of  the  place  in  their  hands. 
One  of  these  families  I  came  to  know.  Their  name  was, 
I  think,  Griffith,  and  before  the  war,  I  believe,  they  had 
been  millers.  I  took  tea  at  the  house,  and  visited  there 
once  or  twice.  They  were  very  nice  people  and  de 
votedly  attached  to  the  Union.  One  of  the  ladies  told 
me  that  they  had  always  managed  to  keep  the  national 
flag,  and  whenever  the  Union  troops  occupied  Win 
chester,  they  were  able  to  hang  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
from  the  porch.  This  irritated  their  rebel  neighbors 
greatly,  and  just  as  soon  as  the  Union  troops  would 
retire,  and  the  town  again  become  in  the  possession 
of  the  Confederate  forces,  they  would  become  subjected 
to  domiciliary  visits,  and  the  house  would  be  most  rigidly 
searched.  But  their  flag  was  never  discovered,  and  from 
what  they  said,  it  was  either  very  securely  hidden  or 


Sheridan's  Campaign  and  Field  Work    301 

else  on  the  person  of  some  of  the  ladies,  which  was 
most  likely. 

During  this  time,  the  subsistence  anji  medical  sup 
plies  of  the  place  were  very  short.  &Ve  had  hardly 
enough  to  eat,  and  there  was  much  deprivation  and 
suffering  which  I  hardly  like  to  recall.  We  had  a  large 
number  of  wounded  rebel  prisoners,  some  eleven  or 
twelve  hundred,  I  think.  These  were  penned  up,  or 
confined  in  an  open  square,  fronting  on  the  main  street, 
and  surrounded  by  a  high  iron  railing,  such  as  Wash 
ington  Square,  and  the  squares  generally  in  Philadelphia 
used  to  have.  These  poor  fellows  were  without  cover 
ing  or  shelter  of  any  kind,  and  what  was  far  worse, 
we  had  scarcely  any  rations  to  give  themJ  In  fact  so 
closely  did  Mosby  and  guerillas  watch  all  me  roads  and 
the  outskirts  of  the  town,  that  neither  food  nor  prov 
ender  could  be  brought,  save  under  heavy  escort.  We 
had  really  almost  nothing,  and  I  know  one  or  two  morn 
ings  when  the  Commissary  of  Subsistence  had  only  two 
or  three  hundred  rations  in  store,  and  they  were  nothing 
among  so  many.  Our  poor  prisoners  were  almost 
starved,  and  I  have  seen  them  struggle  almost  to  the 
death  for  a  biscuit  or  crust,  thrown  over  the  iron  paling 
by  their  sympathetic  friends.  It  was  a  pitiable  sight, 
heart-breaking,  but  we  could  not  help  it.  (Their 
wounded  in  the  hospital  fared  better;  they  got  the  same 
food  as  our  own;  we  made  no  distinction,  and  never 
did  in  my  whole  experience  of  our  warJ 

I  worked  very  hard  at  Winchester;  I  think  I  did 
good  work,  furthering  the  operations  of  the  Medical 
Department,  and  preventing  much  suffering  to  the 
wounded '  of  both  sides.  You  can  therefore  imagine 
my  surprise  (or  at  least,  it  would  have  been  surprise 
had  I  not  been  so  long  on  duty  in  Washington)  when 


302  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

I  received  the  following,  forwarded  to  me  from  Har 
per's  Ferry,  by  Doctor  Blaney: 

[TELEGRAM] 

" Washington,  D.  C, 

Sept.  24-1864. 
To  Surgeon  Blaney, 

Medl.  Director. 

Detail  some  competent  Medical  Officer  as  Acting  Di 
rector  at  Harper's  Ferry,  and  go  forward  at  once  to 
Winchester,  Virginia.  Relieve  Surg.  J.  H.  Brinton,  U.  S. 
Vols.  of  his  duties  there,  and  report  your  arrival  by 
telegraph  to  this  office. 

J.   H.   BARNES, 

Surg.  Genl. 
A  true  copy 

Jos.  V.  Z.  Blaney, 
Surgeon  U.  S.  Vols. 
Chief  Medl.  Director, 
At  Winchester,  Va. 

(and  the  original  of  the  next). 

Surgeon  General's  Office, 

Washington,  D.  C. 

Sept.  25th,  1864. 
Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton, 

Winchester,  Va. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  Surgeon  Blaney,  turn  over  your 
instructions  to  him,  and  return  to  Washington. 

JOSEPH   K.    BARNES, 

Surgeon  General. 
A  true  Copy 
S.  G.  O. 
Oct.  4,  1864. 

C.  H.  Crane, 

Surgeon,  U.  S.  A." 


Sheridan  s  Campaign  and  Field  Work   303 

I  could  hardly  make  this  out.  I  rather  suspected  that 
somehow  or  other,  I  had  come  to  grief.  I  had,  as  it 
were,  a  presentiment,  but  still  I  hurried  on  with  prepara 
tions.  I  turned  over  my  instructions  to  Surgeon  Blaney, 
U.  S.  V.,  and  then  had  to  wait  a  few  hours  for  an 
escort  or  guard.  The  Post  Commandant  was  very  kind, 
and  said  he  would  make  some  excuse  and  send  a  strong 
guard  to  Martinsburg,  the  next  morning,  and  I  could 
travel  with  them.  Martinsburg  was  distant  about  twenty 
miles.  In  the  meantime,  I  visited  a  good  many  cases  in 
the  houses  in  Winchester,  among  others,  a  Colonel  from 
New  York,  who  was  mortally  wounded,  and  near  his 
end. 

It  became  known  in  Winchester,  the  day  before  I 
started,  that  I  was  going  to  Washington.  Several  of 
the  Southern  ladies  were  anxious  that  I  should  carry 
up  letters  for  them  to  their  friends  in  the  North.  Among 
others,  a  lady  belonging  to  the  family  of  General  Faunt- 
leroy  of  the  Confederate  Army,  called  upon  me,  and 
begged  me  to  take  several  letters  to  the  Surgeon-General, 
Dr.  Barnes,  who  had  married  a  Miss  Fauntleroy.  Un 
der  the  circumstances,  I  said  I  would  do  so,  and  accord 
ingly  took  charge  of  the  package,  promising  to  put  it 
in  the  hands  of  General  Barnes  myself.  In  former 
times,  I  had  known  Dr.  Barnes  very  well,  that  is,  soon 
after  I  came  to  Washington.  He  was  then  on  duty  as 
Surgeon  in  attendance  upon  officers  of  the  regular  army 
and  their  families  in  Washington.  I  used  to  meet  him 
almost  every  day  in  the  corridors  of  Willard's  Hotel, 
and  we  would  have  long  talks  together.  He  was  full 
of  news,  especially  as  to  what  was  going  on  in  the 
South,  and  as  to  the  future  dangers  to  Washington, 
which  seemed  not  to  grieve  him  greatly. 

Surgeon  Barnes   was    from   Pennsylvania,   and   had 


304  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

served  in  the  Mexican  War,  had  been  quite  a  favorite 
with,  and  indeed,  I  believe,  the  personal  medical  at 
tendant  of  old  General  Scott,  who,  toward  the  close  of 
his  life,  held  the  grade  of  Lieutenant-General.  During 
his  medical  attendance  of  the  regular  officers,  Dr.  Barnes 
attracted  the  notice  of  the  Secretary  of  War,  Mr.  Edwin 
M.  Stanton,  who  took  a  great  fancy  to  him.  On  the 
9th  of  February,  1863,  ne  nad  been  appointed  Medical 
Inspector,  with  the  rank  of  Lieutenant-Colonel;  on  the 
loth  of  August,  1863,  Medical  Inspector-General,  with 
the  rank  of  Colonel.  He  was  afterwards  created  Act 
ing-Surgeon-General,  and  as  we  have  seen  Surgeon- 
General  on  Hammond's  dismissal.  So  he  proved  him 
self  a  successful  man,  and  the  Secretary  of  War  was 
his  friend,  and  he  was  the  Secretary's.  But  I  had 
noticed  from  the  days  of  our  confidential  and  whispered 
chats  at  Willard's,  when  he  used  to  talk  in  a  very  un 
guarded  way  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  South,  in 
proportion  as  he  rose  in  rank  and  position,  he  became 
more  and  more  reserved.  Indeed,  I  fancied  that  since 
he  had  become  Surgeon-General,  he  rather  chafed  at 
my  presence,  so  that  I  had  kept  out  of  his  way,  as 
much  as  possible  forgetting  the  past.  Altogether  I  had 
tried  to  be  as  prudent  as  possible,  remembering  that  new 
dignities  change  men,  and  that  there  are  times  when 
it  is  best  that  "auld  acquaintance"  should  be  forgot.  Now 
all  this  is  merely  introductory  to  the  delivery  of  these 
letters. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  day  on  which  I  left 
Winchester,  I  was  furnished  with  an  escort  of  thirty 
or  forty  mounted  men,  and  started  with  one  or  two 
ambulances  full  of  wounded,  and  with  an  ambulance 
wagon  for  myself,  in  which  I  had  the  pleasure  of  taking 
down  a  very  pretty  girl,  in  some  way  connected  with 


Sheridan's  Campaign  and  Field  Work    305 

the  Griffith  family  of  Winchester,  whom  I  have  men 
tioned.  She  was  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  Union 
officer  and  wished  to  reach  Philadelphia  or  New  York 
to  procure  her  trousseau.  We  had  a  very  pleasant  trip 
to  Martinsburg.  Our  escort  threw  out  cavalry  men  as 
flankers,  who  rode  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  on  either 
side  of  our  train,  and  not  far  from  them,  a  number  of 
guerillas  rode  in  parallel  lines,  following  us  to  within 
a  mile  of  Martinsburg,  but  apparently  not  maliciously 
inclined;  at  all  events,  they  did  not  fire  on  us.  From 
Martinsburg,  I  telegraphed  to  the  Surgeon-General: 

"I  have  been  relieved  by  Surgeon  Blaney  at  Win 
chester  on  28th.  Have  arrived  here  with  train  of 
wounded;  have  received  no  orders.  Shall  I  return  to 
Washington?  Address  me  at  Harper's  Ferry." 

I  then  transferred  my  wounded  (two  hundred  and 
fifty)  to  Acting-Assistant  Surgeon  Ochschlager  and 
reported  to  Gen.  Thomas  Neill.  My  ambulance,  I 
directed  to  report  to  the  post  quartermaster,  and  then 
to  Surgeon  Blaney  at  Winchester.  We  arrived  at  this 
town  toward  evening,  September  30,  1864,  and  were 
obliged  to  stay  there  over  night.  As  I  was  walking  in 
the  main  street,  a  gentleman  came  up  to  me,  and  ab 
ruptly  said,  "Do  you  know  anything  of  Colonel  — « — ," 
mentioning  the  name  of  the  officer  I  had  seen  at  Win 
chester,  as  I  have  stated  above.  "Yes,"  said  I,  "I  saw 
him  yesterday."  "How  is  he  ?"  "Dying,"  said  I.  "Oh, 
my  God,"  gasped  a  female  voice  behind  me,  and  turn 
ing,  I  saw  a  beautiful  young  woman  to  whom  I  was 
presented.  She  was  the  Colonel's  wife  from  New  York, 
and  was  trying  to  reach  Winchester.  She  asked  me  all 
about  him,  but  I  had  a  hopeless  story  to  tell.  She 
was  anxious  to  get  on,  but  no  wagon-train  would  leave 
until  the  morning.  She  would  not  come  into  the  house, 


306  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

say  what  I  would,  but  anxiously  and  hopelessly  trod 
that  street,  hour  after  hour,  fearing  that  she  might 
miss  some  possible  conveyance.  I  promised  to  send  her 
on  with  the  returning  escort,  but  she  could  not  rest. 
At  last  she  hired  an  old  negro,  who,  with  a  wretched 
vehicle,  and  still  more  wretched  horse,  agreed  to  try 
and  get  her  through.  I  gave  her  a  card  to  Mr.  Mosby 
and  his  men,  stating  who  and  what  she  was,  and  beg 
ging  them  to  let  her  pass.  I  had  afterwards  the  satis 
faction  to  know  that  she  did  reach  Winchester  un 
molested,  and,  contrary  to  my  expectations,  in  time  to 
find  her  husband  still  living  and  conscious. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

RELIEVED   FROM    DUTY  IN   SURGEON-GENERALS   OFFICE 

On  reaching  Washington,  I  at  once  saw  Surgeon- 
General  Barnes,  and  gave  him  the  package  of  letters 
from  his  wife's  family,  and  the  private  verbal  messages, 
sent  by  me.  He  seemed  quite  abashed  when  I  spoke 
to  him  about  them,  and  I  thought,  looked  rather  sheep 
ish.  However,  I  did  not  say  anything  about  my  return, 
but  after  my  interview  with  him,  went  to  my  own  office, 
farther  down  the  avenue,  near  the  War  Department. 
Here  in  my  desk,  I  found  this  order: 

"WAR   DEPARTMENT. 

Surg.  Genl's  Office, 

SPECIAL  September  30,  1864. 

ORDER  Reed. 

No.  324.  Adjt.  General's  Office, 

Washington,  Sept.  29,  1864. 
[Extract] 

17.  Surg.  John  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  Vols.  is  hereby 
relieved  from  duty  in  the  Surgeon  General's  Office,  and 
will  report  in  person  without  delay  to  Asst.  Surgeon 
Genl.  R.  C.  Wood,  U.  S.  Army,  at  Louisville,  Ky.,  for 
assignment  to  duty. 

By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War. 

(Sd)     E.  D.  TOWNSEND, 

Official  Asst.  Adjt.  General. 

E.  D.  Townsend, 

Asst.  Adjt.  Genl. 
Surgeon  John  H.  Brinton, 
Thro.  Surgeon  General." 
307 


308  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Erinton 

This  was  not  unexpected.  I  had  been  long  enough 
on  duty  in  the  Surgeon-General's  office  to  read  the  signs 
of  the  times,  and  I  felt  certain,  from  the  manner  of  my 
relief  at  Winchester,  that  something  was  in  the  wind. 
That  same  day,  I  saw  Dr.  Crane,  U.  S.  A.,  the  Chief 
Medical  Officer  of  the  Surgeon-General's  Office,  and 
asked  him  about  turning  over  property,  etc.  I  also 
asked  him  what  was  the  true  cause  of  my  being  sent 
away,  and  whether  there  was  any  real  cause  of  dissatis 
faction  with  my  duties  in  the  Surgeon-General's  office. 
His  answer  was  this,  "Doctor,  what  is  General  McClel- 
lan's  middle  name?  George  Brinton  McClellan — that's 
all  I  can  say,"  and  then  he  told  me  that  I  would  turn 
over  all  my  property  and  duties  to  Dr.  Otis  of  the  Volun 
teer  Surgeons,  who  would  arrive  from  the  South  in  a 
day  or  two. 

So  my  literary  work  was  thus  cut  short,  and  I  was 
to  leave  Washington.  At  heart  I  was  delighted ;  I  hated 
the  manual  work  of  writing,  and  the  sense  of  relief  was 
immense,  though  I  loved  the  Army  Museum  and  all 
that  belonged  to  it, — the  trips  to  the  front  and  the 
hospital  visits, — everything  in  fact  but  the  writing. 

Why  I  was  relieved  from  my  bookmaking  in  Wash 
ington,  which  was  the  preparation  of  the  Surgical  His 
tory  of  the  War,  I  have  often  wondered;  I  never  knew 
and  do  not  know  now.  It  must  have  been  from  one 
of  two  causes,  or  from  both  of  them  combined,  viz., 
first  my  literary  and  museum  work  may  have  been  in 
the  opinion  of  the  Surgeon-General  unsatisfactory; 
second,  I  may  have  been  personally  objectionable  to 
the  Secretary  of  War. 

As  to  the  first  causes :  I  think  my  work,  literary  and 
otherwise,  was  satisfactory  to  the  head  of  my  depart- 


Relieved  From  Duty  309 

ment,  at  least  Dr.  Crane  assured  me  that  there  was  no 
complaint,  and  that  they  were  satisfied  at  the  office  with 
me.  I  have  already  hinted  that  I  had  imagined  my 
presence  was  disagreeable  to  Surgeon-General  Barnes. 
I  had  known  him  too  well,  when  he  first  came  to  Wash 
ington,  but  still  I  think  I  had  been,  I  know  at  all  events, 
I  had  tried  to  be,  discreet.  In  Washington,  in  bureau 
life  at  that  time,  everyone  had  enemies.  The  "outs" 
wanted  to  become  the  "ins,"  and  everyone  who  was  in, 
ipso  facto,  became  a  target  for  the  malice  of  his  enemies. 
I  suppose  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  that  that  kind 
of  target  practice  was  not  only  justifiable,  but  even 
praiseworthy,  and  by  some,  considered  patriotic. 

Apropos  of  this,  I  remember  well  that  on  one  occa 
sion,  Dr.  Barnes,  after  he  became  Surgeon-General, 
called  me  into  his  private  office,  and  standing  before 
the  open  fire,  said,  "Doctor  Brinton,  I  will  read  this 
note  to  you,  and  then  burn  it."  And  he  read  an 
anonymous  note  addressed  to  him,  denouncing  me,  say 
ing  that  I  was  a  friend  of  the  overthrown  William 
Hammond,  and  a  secret  enemy  of  Dr.  Barnes,  and 
warning  him  against  me.  I  looked  at  it,  thought  I 
recognized  the  style  of  expression  as  that  of  a  rival, 
and  handed  it  back  to  him.  He  dropped  it  in  the  fire, 
saying,  "I  have  forgotten  it,"  but  he  always  afterwards 
seemed  to  regard  me  with  suspicion,  and  to  hold  him 
self  aloof. 

As  to  the  Secretary  of  War,  Mr.  Stanton,  he  did  look 
upon  me,  and  justly,  as  a  friend  of  Dr.  Hammond;  the 
ex- Surgeon-General  Hammond,  in  his  view,  was  crimi 
nal,  for  the  latter  had  differed  in  his  opinion  from  the 
Secretary.  Now,  in  my  judgment,  the  Secretary  looked 
upon  men  from  his  own  peculiar  standpoint.  He  was, 


310  Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Erinton 

I  think,  an  honest  man,  and  patriotic,  but  very  strong 
in  his  own  convictions.  Believing  himself  to  be  right, 
he  regarded  all  those  who  differed  in  opinion  from  him  as 
wrong  thinkers,  and  wrong-doers,  criminals,  in  fact,  and 
that  it  was  his  duty  as  Secretary  of  War  to  punish 
them,  when  he  conveniently  could.  Now,  I  not  only 
was  a  friend  of  Hammond's,  but  a  relative,  a  blood- 
relative  of  General  McClellan,  who,  high  in  the  esteem 
of  the  Democratic  party,  and  a  possible  candidate  for 
the  presidency  of  the  United  States,  was  in  the  eyes 
of  Mr.  Stanton  little  less  wicked  than  the  Arch  Fiend 
himself. 

Then,  too,  there  was  someone  at  the  Secretary's  elbow, 
ready  to  point  out  any  of  my  personal  delinquencies. 
This  came  about  in  this  wise. 

When  I  was  living  at  the  Metropolitan  Club,  three  or 
four  weeks  before  that  time,  at  our  table-d'hote,  there 
sat  opposite  me  an  old  gentleman,  named  Lewis,  I 
think,  from  West  Chester.  He  had  some  auditing  ap 
pointment,  and  was  quite  a  friend,  and  in  fact  a  crony, 
of  the  Secretary  of  War.  McClellan  at  that  time  was 
being  talked  of  as  a  Presidential  candidate.  This  man, 
Lewis,  disliked  him,  and  could  not  abuse  him  enough. 
Now  political  abuse  of  a  candidate  for  public  office  is 
perhaps  fair  enough,  as  things  go,  but  on  one  occa 
sion  this  old  fellow  went  beyond  the  public  limits,  and 
began  to  abuse  my  cousin  George's  personal  character; 
he  said  he  knew  McClellan's  character,  and  that  he  was 
a  coward,  as  all  his  Mother's  (my  Aunt's)  family  were. 
This  I  could  not  permit,  so  I  spoke  out  loudly  before 
the  whole  table,  saying  I  was  sure  that  one  of  the  family 
believed  in  personal  responsibility,  and  then  I  gave  him 
the  lie  direct,  owning  my  relationship  to  McClellan,  and 


Relieved  From  Duty  311 

warning  him  at  his  peril,  never  to  make  slanderous  re 
marks  again.  He  sat  aghast  and  speechless,  and  I  never 
saw  him  again.  But  Mr.  Nicolay,  President  Lincoln's 
Secretary,  who  was  present,  said  to  me,  that  while  I 
did  perfectly  right,  he  was  afraid  I  would  hear  of  this 
again,  as  the  man  was  a  friend  of  Secretary  Stanton. 

I  never  did  hear  of  him  again  until,  very  many  years 
afterwards,  when  the  man  was  near  his  end,  someone 
came  to  ask  me  professionally  about  his  case. 

One  other  possible  cause,  call  it  No.  3,  might  have 
been  this :  I  saw  that  the  end  of  the  war  was  approach 
ing,  and  I  knew  that  a  great  many  capable  and  trained 
surgeons  of  U.  S.  Volunteers  would  be  thrown  back 
into  civil  life.  It  occurred  to  me  that  if  a  certain  num 
ber  of  them  could  be  retained  in  the  Regular  Army, 
transferred,  in  fact,  great  efficiency  in  the  Medical  De 
partment  might  be  obtained.  At  the  same  time  a  corre 
sponding  number  of  Assistant  Surgeons  of  the  Regular 
Army  might  be  promoted.  So  I  arranged  in  my  mind 
a  scheme  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  end,  which  on 
submission  seemed  to  be  satisfactory  both  to  the  Sur 
geons  of  Volunteers  (Old  Brigade-Surgeons)  and  to  the 
Assistant  Surgeons  of  the  Regular  Army  (U.  S.  A.). 
Equal  numbers  of  each  were  to  be  transferred  and  pro 
moted  to  the  rank  of  Surgeon,  U.  S.  A.  Even  Surgeon- 
General  Barnes  appeared  to  approve  of  the  plan,  though 
I  suspect  that  in  heart  he  did  not.  In  effect,  it  would 
have  brought  in  the  Surgeons  of  my  Corps  (U.  S. 
Vols.),  on  equal  and  fair  terms  with  the  Assistant  Sur 
geon  of  the  Regular  Army.  I  doubt  if  this  result  was 
agreeable  to  the  Surgeon-General.  In  fact,  after  the 
close  of  the  war,  a  few  of  the  old  and  experienced  Sur 
geons  of  Volunteers  entered  the  army  as  Assistant  Sur- 


312  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

geon,  U.  S.  A.,  but  at  the  foot  of  the  list,  so  that  their 
long  service  and  war  experience  went  for  nothing,  in 
the  matter  of  their  new  grade  and  rank. 

I  moved  in  this  matter,  because,  from  my  rank  in  my 
Corps,  from  my  service,  and  from  having  been  on  duty 
in  the  Surgeon-General's  Office,  I  was  in  some  sort  a 
representative  of  my  Corps,  and  because,  as  I  knew  I 
should  return  to  civil  life,  I  had  nothing  to  gain  by 
reorganization.  I  could,  therefore,  with  propriety,  act. 
I  was  honest  in  my  views,  but  I  doubt  if  I  was  politic 
or  wise. 

So  from  what  I  have  thus  egotistically  written,  I 
think  I  have  shown  you  that  between  Stanton,  Barnes 
and  myself,  a  good  case  was  made,  why  I  should  not 
remain  longer  at  Washington,  and  why  I  should  again 
start  west.  So  I  put  the  best  face  I  could  on  it,  and 
began  to  make  my  preparations  to  depart. 

In  a  few  days,  my  successor,  Surgeon  Otis,  U.  S. 
Vols.,  arrived,  and  I  then  received  the  following  order : 

"Surg.  General's  Office, 

Washington,  D.  C. 

October  3,  1864. 
Sir: 

Surgeon  George  A.  Otis,  U.  S.  Vols.,  will  relieve  you 
from  the  charge  of  the  Department  of  this  Office,  which 
you  now  occupy,  and  also  from  the  duties  of  Curator 
of  the  'Army  Medical  Museum.' 

You  will  transfer  to  Surgeon  Otis  all  official  books, 
papers,  records,  funds,  and  property,  of  any  description 
under  your  charge  and  he  will  receipt  to  you  for  those 
articles  for  which  you  are  responsible.  After  turning 
over  your  property,  etc.,  you  will  proceed  without  delay, 
to  Louisville,  Ky.,  and  report  to  Assistant  Surgeon  Gen- 


Relieved  From  Duty  313 

eral  Wood,  in  compliance  with  Special  Order  No.  324, 
dated  War  Dept.  Sept.  29th,  1864. 

Very  respectfully  yr.  Obt.  servt. 

By  order  of  the  Surgeon  General, 

(Sd)     C.  H.  GRANE, 

Surgeon,  U.  S.  A. 
Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton, 
U.  S.  Volunteers, 

Surgeon  General's  Office." 

I  immediately  turned  over  my  public  property  to  my 
successor,  settled  up  my  accounts,  and  put  my  papers 
in  order  for  Dr.  Otis's  use.  It  was  rather  a  melancholy 
business,  that  departure,  under  all  the  circumstances,  but 
really  I  was  not  sorry,  and  longed  to  be  far  away  from 
Washington,  out  of  reach  of  the  wire-pulling  and 
scheming  and  envy  of  that  political  place.  I  felt  all 
the  time  as  if  my  very  clerks  were  laughing  at  me,  and 
were  watching  me.  So,  turning  over  my  official  prop 
erty,  and  packing  up  my  private  library,  and  my  ana 
tomical  preparations,  which  I  had  brought  on  from  Phila 
delphia,  to  illustrate  my  proposed,  but  never  given, 
course  on  military  surgery,  and  which  I  sent  back  to 
Philadelphia,  I  was  ready  to  depart. 

I  had  been  a  long  time  in  Washington,  and  had  many 
friends.  To  some  of  these,  I  said  good-bye,  and  to 
one  of  them,  Mrs.  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  I  sent  a  picture. 
I  had  often  joked  with  her  when  officers  had  been  sent 
away  from  Washington  under  the  displeasure  of  the 
Secretary  of  War, — exiled  in  fact,  for  the  Secretary 
looked  upon  a  detail  to  Louisville  or  St.  Louis  as  a 
banishment,  quite  as  in  Russia  they  regard  banishment 
to  Siberia.  Some  officers  took  removal  from  Washing 
ton  as  a  rather  hard  fate,  but  I  had  often  told  Mrs. 


314  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Douglas  that  I  was  sure  to  be  decapitated,  but  that  when 
it  came,  like  St.  Denis  (she,  Mrs.  Douglas,  was  a 
Catholic),  I  would  lose  my  head  with  good  grace.  So 
I  requested  one  of  the  artists  of  the  Museum,  Faber, 
a  German  of  facile  pencil,  to  make  a  pen-and-ink  sketch 
of  myself  as  St.  Denis  leaving  the  Museum,  head  in 
hand,  for  the  region  of  the  setting  sun,  with  the  bloody 
headman's  sword,  the  unfinished  work  of  the  Surgical 
History  of  the  War,  etc. 

There  is  an  odd  sequel  to  this  picture  story,  which  I 
will  give  in  the  words  of  Dr.  Otis,  my  successor.  A 
month  or  two  afterwards,  Dr.  Barnes  heard  of  the  St. 
Denis  caricature,  and  expressed  a  wish  to  see  it.  Dr. 
Woodward  had  Faber  make  a  copy  from  memory.  A 
few  additions  were  made,  as  the  motto  by  Faber,  "So 
Woodward  says,  but  I  suspect  our  friend  of  instigating," 
Dr.  Otis  writes.  Faber's  picture  was  photographed  by 
Dr.  Otis.  The  original  was  given  to  the  Secretary  of 
War  by  Dr.  Barnes.  Barnes,  Crane,  Thomson,  Billings 
and  Otis  had  copies,  and  two  were  sent  to  me  at  Nash 
ville,  where  I  then  was,  and  the  negative  destroyed. 

From  the  motto  "Si  tacuisses  Philosoph  Mansisses" 
on  the  latter,  you  may  infer  that  my  tongue  had  been 
my  enemy.  Perhaps  it  was  so,  but  dear  me,  what  dif 
ference!  Stanton,  Lewis,  Barnes,  Crane,  Otis  and  my 
anonymous  enemy,  all  are  long  since  gone,  and  I  can 
laugh  at  the  very  recollection  of  St.  Denis. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

LOUISVILLE,     ST.    LOUIS,     ROSECRANS'     MISSOURI     MARCH 

So,  having  finished  my  work  at  Washington  and 
gladly  shaking,  as  it  were,  the  dust  of  the  town  from 
my  feet,  I  left,  and  after  a  short  stay  at  Philadelphia, 
reached  Louisville  in  obedience  to  the  War  Department 
Order,  and  reported  to  the  Assistant-Surgeon-General 
Wood  for  assignment  to  duty  on  the  I5th  of  October, 
1864.  By  him,  and  his  Assistant,  Surgeon  J.  B.  Brown, 
I  was  received  with  the  greatest  kindness.  I  was  fresh 
from  Washington,  from  the  Surgeon-General's  Office, 
and  had  all  the  news  and  gossip  of  the  Department  at 
my  fingers'  ends. 

They  did  not  know  exactly  what  to  do  with  me.  I 
had  almost  too  much  rank,  and  almost  any  assignment 
would  disturb  existing  arrangements.  Finally,  they 
asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  go  to  St.  Louis,  and  report 
to  my  old  friend  Madison  Mills,  the  Medical  Director 
of  the  Department  of  the  Missouri,  commanded  by  Gen 
eral  Rosecrans.  Of  course,  I  assented  with  delight.  I 
was  glad  to  go  to  St.  Louis,  where  a  rather  active  cam 
paign  was  just  beginning,  and  I  had  much  respect  and 
admiration  for  Surgeon  Mills,  U.  S.  A.,  a  man  of 
executive  ability,  broad  views,  and  a  very  decided  char 
acter.  His  views  on  all  subjects  were  clear  and  strongly 
expressed.  He  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  man  of 
means,  acquired  by  fortunate  speculation  in  land  around 
Fort  Leavenworth.  My  order  ran  thus: 

315 


316  Personal   Memoirs  of  Jolm  H.  Brinton 

"Assistant  Surgeon  General's  Office, 

Louisville,  Ky.,  Oct.   17,   1864. 

Surgeon  John  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  V.,  having  reported 
to  the  Asst.  Surgeon  General  in  obedience  to  Special 
Order  No.  324,  War  Dept.,  Adjt.  General's  Office,  Wash 
ington,  September  29th,  1864,  is  assigned  to  duty  in  the 
Department  of  the  Missouri,  and  will  report  in  person 
without  delay,  to  Surgeon  Mad.  Mills,  U.  S.  A.,  Medical 
Director,  Department  of  the  Missouri,  St.  Louis. 

JOSEPH  B.   BROWN, 

Act.  Asst.  Surgeon  General, 

U.  S.  Army." 

I  left  Louisville  on  October  i8th,  and  arrived  in  St. 
Louis  on  the  igth,  went  to  the  Lindell  Hotel,  and  im 
mediately  afterwards  reported  at  the  Medical  Director's 
Office  to  Surgeon  Mills.  My  trunk  not  having  yet 
arrived,  I  was  in  civilian's  clothes.  I  excused  myself 
for  this  breach  of  military  decorum,  at  which  the  old 
gentleman,  himself  in  citizen's  dress,  grunted  a  signifi 
cant  "Pah!  Come  to  the  office  to-morrow.  Look 
around  the  town  to-day."  On  the  2ist,  he  gave  me  this 
order:  I  was  to  act  as  Medical  Director  in  the  field 
on  General  Rosecrans'  staff  in  the  campaign  then  going 
on  in  southwest  Missouri;  to  me  a  delightful  detail. 
The  duty,  however,  was  responsible.  Rosecrans'  army 
was  thirty  or  forty  thousand  men,  and  was  moving  light 
and  rapidly.  He  had  not  informed  his  Medical  Director 
exactly  where  he  was  going,  or  where  his  base  would 
be.  Dr.  Mills  was  quite  in  the  dark,  but  this  he  told 
me :  "Doctor,  reach  Rosecrans,  find  out  where  he  wants 
his  medical  supplies  if  you  can  (I  can't),  and  then  estab 
lish  medical  depots  for  thirty  thousand  men  in  two  or 
three  points;  keep  me  advised  by  telegraph,  all  the  time, 


Louisville  317 

and  I  will  see  that  you  are  supplied  with  medical  stores 
and  officers  wherever  you  want  them.  Be  sharp,  learn 
all  you  can.  Keep  your  subordinates  well  up  in  their 
work,  and  let  me  be  daily  informed  what  is  wanted,  how 
you  are  getting  on,  and  I  will  support  you  in  every  way." 

Nothing  could  be  more  satisfactory  and  liberal  than 
the  old  Doctor's  instructions,  and  we  both  acted  up  to 
them. 

Having  made  the  necessary  arrangements,  on  the  24th 
of  October  I  left  St.  Louis  with  horse  and  negro  ser 
vant.  I  went  by  rail  as  far  as  Hermann,  which  place 
I  reached  by  night.  I  here  put  my  horse  on  the  steamer 
Lillie  Martin,  and  stayed  on  board  all  night.  On  the 
morning  of  the  25th,  the  steamer  started  up  the  river, 
and  in  the  afternoon  about  four  o'clock,  we  reached 
Jefferson  City  the  capital  of  Missouri,  on  the  Missouri 
River.  The  river  was  low,  and  as  we  stuck  on  the 
sand  every  now  and  then,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  ad 
miring  the  ingenious  mode  of  raising  up  the  bow  of  the 
boat  by  two  poles,  and  then  backing  her  off.  At  Jef 
ferson  City,  I  stayed  a  day  and  a  half,  appointing  a 
Medical  Purveyor,  transferring  to  him  the  stores  I 
brought  with  me,  and  arranging  the  hospital  accom 
modation  of  five  hundred  beds  in  anticipation  of  coming 
wounded.  For  this  purpose,  buildings  were  seized,  and 
hospital  tents  were  held  in  readiness  for  pitching.  When 
pitched,  these  were  to  be  heated  by  underground  flues. 
Furnaces  and  caldrons  for  cooking  I  requisitioned  from 
St.  Louis,  and  I  also  requested  additional  medical  officers 
to  be  sent  on.  Every  request  I  made  was  promptly 
granted,  and  I  was  assisted  in  every  way  by  the  effi 
cient  action  of  the  Medical  Director,  Surgeon  Madison 
Mills,  who  was  at  all  times  ready  to  help  me.  I  also 
perfected  the  telegraphic  arrangements  to  keep  up  the 


318  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

communications  with  the  headquarters  and  St.   Louis, 
and  to  obtain  fresh  supplies  as  needed. 

When  I  finished  my  business  at  Jefferson  City,  I 
started  on  October  27th,  by  railroad,  across  the  prairie 
in  the  direction  of  Sedalia,  as  far  as  Warrensburg,  the 
railroad  terminus,  at  which  place  I  arrived  at  4  P.M. 
Here,  upon  inquiring  from  the  Commandant,  I  learned 
vaguely  that  Rosecrans  was  somewhere  on  the  prairie, 
but  exactly  where,  no  one  could  tell.  I  also  heard  the 
pleasant  information  that  the  whole  country  was  full 
of  guerillas,  murdering  and  cutting  the  throats  of 
stragglers  at  large.  Now,  I  had  to  reach  headquarters, 
so  I  concluded  to  leave  my  negro  servant  (as  guerilla 
bands  objected  to  negroes,  and  usually  gave  those  cap 
tured  short  shrift)  at  Warrensburg,  and  pushed  on  alone, 
trusting  to  luck  to  get  through.  But  just  as  I  was  start 
ing,  I  was  told  that  a  body  of  horse  (Union  forces)  were 
encamping  on  the  hills  beyond  the  town.  Riding  out 
to  see  who  they  were,  to  my  great  joy  I  found  the 
camp  to  be  that  of  General  Rosecrans  and  his  staff. 
Almost  the  first  person  I  saw  was  my  old  friend  Scull, 
whom  I  have  mentioned  so  often.  He  could  scarcely 
believe  his  eyes;  he  thought  I  must  be  an  apparition, 
my  own  ghost — to  part  in  Pennsylvania  Avenue  and  to 
meet  on  a  slight  hill  in  Missouri  Prairie,  exactly  as 
when  I  had  last  seen  him  I  jokingly  prophesied  I  would 
do!  However,  he  was  glad  to  meet  me,  offering  me 
a  part  of  his  tent,  and,  as  he  explained,  thus  getting 
rid  of  the  Provost  Marshal,  a  Captain  on  the  Staff, 
whose  function  it  was  to  hang  guerilla  murderers  and 
spies,  and  who  could  not  help  reverting  to  the  subject 
afterward,  especially  to  his  mess  mate  and  tent  com 
panion.  As  Scull  was  a  delicate-minded  man,  despite 
his  gloomy  name,  the  Provost  Marshal's  presence  dis- 


Louisville  319 

tressed  him.  As  he  put  it,  "I  would  even  prefer  yours," 
so  I  found  quarters  before  even  reporting  to  General 
Rosecrans. 

In  a  few  minutes  General  Rosecrans  came  out  of  his 
tent,  and  I  was  presented  to  him,  and  submitted  my 
orders.  As  Scull  vouched  for  my  being  a  reasonably 
good  fellow,  and  a  "white  elephant"  from  Washing 
ton,  the  General  was  very  nice  and  gave  me  a  warm 
welcome.  Somehow  or  other,  I  said  something  about 
soap, — I  believe  in  this  way.  A  fire  had  been  built  in 
front  of  our  tents,  as  evening  closed  in.  The  wind  was 
high,  and  the  smoke  drifted  in  our  faces,  and  some 
allusion  was  made  to  the  cleaning  powers  of  soap.  The 
General  addressed  his  conversation  chiefly  to  me,  and 
I  listened  well.  He  had  been  much  interested  in  the 
manufacture  of  soap  before  entering  the  army  (he  was 
a  West  Point  graduate),  and  once  on  his  favorite  topic 
he  talked  and  talked.  The  men  of  the  staff  dropped 
off  to  their  tents  and  sleep,  but  still  he  talked,  and 
still  I  listened.  But  he  became  after  that  a  good  friend 
of  mine,  although  Scull  stuck  to  it  that  it  was  the 
influence  of  soap. 

He  proved  a  kind  friend  to  me.  Talkative  in  some 
respects,  he  was  close  enough  in  others,  and  I  had  hard 
work  to  find  out  which  way  he  would  go,  or  where  our 
medical  supplies  should  be  sent.  The  course  of  events, 
however,  settled  themselves.  In  a  few  hours,  General 
Pleasanton,  in  charge  of  the  cavalry  arrived,  having  one 
or  two  of  the  rebel  generals  prisoners,  and  reporting  that 
the  raiding  forces  under  the  southern  general,  Price, 
"Pap  Price,"  as  he  was  called,  had  been  driven  out 
of  Missouri,  and  had  crossed  the  Osage  River.  The 
campaign  was  thus  finished,  and  General  Rosecrans  with 
his  staff  determined  to  return  to  St.  Louis.  The  fight- 


320  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

ing  had  taken  place  at  Marais  des  Cygnes,  and  Generai 
Pleasanton's  wounded,  which  amounted  to  about  360, 
had  been  sent  to  Kansas  City  for  treatment,  so  I  counter 
manded  my  orders  as  to  supplies. 

The  generals  we  had  captured,  Marmaduke  and 
Cabell,  seemed  good  sort  of  fellows,  and  we  had  long 
talks  around  our  camp-fires.  In  returning,  the  troops 
crossed  the  prairie  by  rapid  marches.  They  had  marched 
already  thirty-five  and  forty  miles  a  day,  and  here  I 
may  say  in  passing,  that  General  Rosecrans  possessed  a 
wonderful  capacity  of  marching  men,  a  rare  accom 
plishment.  He  would  at  night  know  where  every 
brigade  or  regiment  or  separate  command  would  be. 
He  excelled,  too,  in  making  such  judicious  arrangements, 
that  the  artillery,  baggage-trains,  etc.,  would  never  be 
in  the  way  of  the  marching  foot.  His  line  of  march 
was  never  blocked. 

As  we,  that  is,  headquarters,  steamed  across  the 
prairie,  in  train  from  Warrensburg,  we  passed  the  march 
ing  troops.  One  of  our  generals,  A.  J.  Smith,  was 
greatly  beloved  by  his  men.  He  was  an  old  Indian 
frontier  soldier,  and  had  been  on  continuous  duty  there 
for  many  years.  At  the  time  he  came  up  to  us  at 
Warrensburg,  he  had  just  lost  a  favorite  horse,  a  "single- 
footed  racker."  He  said  that  it  had  been  stolen  and 
he  swore  "he  would  hang  the  scoundrel  if  he  caught 
the  thief."  He  sat  on  the  back  platform  of  the  car,  to 
see  if  he  could  discover  his  horse  in  the  marching  column. 
The  men  seemed  to  know  what  he  was  after,  and  as  he 
was  adored  by  them  all  for  his  soldierly  qualities,  they 
cheered  him  all  along  the  line  of  march,  as  our  train 
flew  by.  At  Jefferson  City,  we  spent  the  night  of  March 
22nd  on  board  the  steamer,  and  in  the  morning  started 
down  the  river,  stopping  for  a  little  while  at  a  place 


Louisville  321 

called  Hermann  on  the  right  bank,  I  think,  of  the  Mis 
sissippi.  The  little  place  had  been  settled  by  Germans, 
and  one  of  them  to  whose  house  we  went,  grew  a  grape 
from  which  she  made  a  wine,  much  like  Assmanhauser, 
a  wine  I  always  liked.  We  drank  a  bottle  of  it  with 
gusto.  Hermann's  was  the  only  American  Assman 
hauser.  I  often  thought  of  this  wine,  contrasting  it 
in  my  mind  most  favorably  with  other  American  wines. 

By  November  3rd,  at  8.30  P.M.,  we  were  again  at 
St.  Louis,  and  I  settled  down  to  do  almost  nothing  for 
a  month. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ST.   LOUIS 

When  I  asked  kind  old  Madison  Mills  what  my  duties 
were  to  be,  he  said,  "Drop  down  and  see  me  every  morn 
ing,  then  go  see  the  girls,  and  go  to  parties.  If  I  have 
anything  for  you  to  do,  I'll  let  you  know." 

On  the  7th  of  November,  I  was  detailed  as  President 
of  an  Army  Medical  Board,  which  was  in  session  in 
St.  Louis.  The  Board  was  in  a  sort  of  permanent  ses 
sion,  and  the  duties  had  become  almost  nominal.  Thus 
my  life  for  a  month  was  a  life  of  leisure,  and  in  order 
to  carry  out  Dr.  Mill's  instructions,  I  sent  home  for 
my  dress-coat  and  had  as  good  a  time  as  I  could. 

I  lived  with  my  friend  Scull  at  the  Lindell  Hotel, 
dined  at  General  Rosecrans'  table,  paid  a  visit  every 
day  to  the  office,  rode  on  horseback,  called  on  the  ladies, 
attended  to  social  duties,  dressed  carefully  for  dinner, 
and  went  to  parties,  where  my  dress-coat,  almost  a 
solitary  one  at  that  time  in  St.  Louis,  was  derisively 
spoken  of  as  a  "steel-pen  coat." 

Society  then  in  St.  Louis  was  divided  into  two  parties 
or  sections,  Union  and  Secesh.  One  dancing  club,  I 
forget  which,  was  called  the  Imperial,  and  the  other  I 
have  even  forgotten  the  name  of.  I  belonged  to  both, 
and  went  regularly,  and  was  having,  as  they  say,  "a  good 
time."  Society  in  St.  Louis  was  queer.  One  old  gen 
tleman  by  the  name  of  Clement,  a  very  rich  man,  gave 
a  gorgeous  dinner  to  the  General  and  the  staff.  He  sat 

322 


St.  Louis  323 

at  table  with  his  hat  on.     He  said  he  had  a  cold,  and 
his  friends  seemed  to  think  it  quite  the  proper  thing. 

With  all  this  gaiety  going  on,  I  still  did  some  good  in 
this  month  of  pleasure.  I  saved  a  young  girl's  life,  thus  : 
A  young  woman  in  southwestern  Missouri,  only  seventeen 
or  eighteen  years  of  age,  had  a  lover  in  a  rebel  guerilla 
band.  At  his  instigation,  she  cut  down  a  telegraph 
pole,  cut  the  wire,  interpreted  a  most  important  tele 
gram,  and  as  a  consequence  of  its  non-transmittal,  sev 
eral  thousand  of  our  troops  were  marching  at  cross 
purposes,  and  an  important  military  operation  came  to 
naught  or  worse.  The  girl  was  caught  and  admitted 
the  charge,  indeed,  rather  gloried  in  it.  Rosecrans  was 
furious  and  ordered  her  tried  by  a  court  martial  of  some 
kind,  and  she  was  condemned  to  be  hanged.  His  staff 
and  many  other  of  the  officers  were  dreadfully  con 
cerned,  and  represented  to  him  the  odium  of  executing 
a  woman.  But  he  was  inexorable.  He  was  an  obstinate 
man,  and  reasoned,  not  illogically,  that  such  a  deed  in 
war,  by  a  civilian,  deserved  death,  be  the  perpetrator 
man  or  woman.  Nothing  would  move  him.  In  de 
spair,  some  of  his  staff  and  best  friends  consulted  me, 
as  to  what  I  could  do.  I  saw  the  poor  creature  in  the 
military  prison  of  St.  Louis.  She  was  almost  half 
witted.  I  told  her  what  answers  to  give  to  certain  of 
my  leading  questions,  knowing  that  Rosecrans  was  a 
strict  Catholic,  and  that  under  certain  circumstances, 
he  dared  not  ha^gj:he-^^maii~lndeed,  I  told  him  more 
thajn^dneTuTabout  her,  and  finally  he  countermanded  the  -j).  ^  { 
order  of  execution,  when  she  apparently  had  but  a  few 
hours  to  live.  She  was  chained,  and  it  was  to  me  a  *2 
horrible  sight  to  see  a  woman  chained.  Rosecrans  told 
me  plainly  that  under  the  circumstances,  while  he  did 
not  believe  what  I  said,  he  would  forgive  me  for  the 


324  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

motive  of  saying  it.  We  were  all  greatly  relieved  at 
the  happy  termination  of  this  affair. 

On  December  i,  1864,  Dr.  Madison  Mills  was  ap 
pointed  Medical  Inspector-General  in  place  of  Barnes, 
promoted  to  the  Surgeon-Generalcy.  The  Surgeon- 
General  wrote  him  of  his  appointment,  addressing  the 
letter  in  his  own  handwriting,  "Colonel  Madison  Mills." 
I  came  down  to  the  office  the  day  the  letter  arrived, 
before  the  Medical  Director,  and  recognizing  the  Sur 
geon-General's  handwriting  and  surmising  the  contents 
of  the  letter,  put  it  conspicuously  on  Dr.  Mills's  desk. 
The  Doctor  saw  it,  but  would  not  touch  or  open  it,  and 
was  quite  confused  when  we  all  called  him  "Colonel." 
Finally,  he  opened  and  read  it.  After  a  while,  he  said 
to  me,  "You  know  Washington,  would  you  take  this 
appointment  if  you  were  I?"  I  replied,  "If  you  take 
it,  and  go  to  Washington,  in  a  month  you  will  be  in 
hot  water.  You  are  too  independent  to  hold  a  post 
which  is  so  nominal  and  useless  as  the  Medical  Inspector 
Generalship's  now  is.  You  will  try  to  do  something, 
and  will  come  in  collision  with  the  Surgeon-General  and 
others.  You  are  not  subservient  enough  for  the  place." 
He  laughed,  but  he  did  accept  the  office,  and  it  turned 
out  exactly  as  I  predicted. 

In  a  letter  of  November  14,  1864,  I  thus  wrote  to 
Dr.  DaCosta:  "I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  Rosecrans. 
In  fact  he  has  taken  a  fancy  to  me,  and  we  are  quite 
intimate.  He  is  a  good  strategist,  no  tactician,  no  ad 
ministrator,  a  religious  enthusiast,  a  fair  chemist,  and 
an  excellent  soap  manufacturer.  His  skill  in  the  last 
capacity  is  his  peculiar  pride.  He  will  talk  hour  after 
hour  on  the  subject;  he  never  wearies  when  on  his  be 
loved  hobby  of  soap." 

On  the  7th  of  December.  1864,  I  wrote  to  my  Mother, 


St.  Louis  325 

a  letter,  a  portion  of  which  I  copy,  and  which  explains 
itself:  "Your  letter  catches  me  on  the  wing.  Let  me 
tell  you  the  how  and  wherefore :  General  Rosecrans 
has  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  me,  and  on  old  Dr.  Mills's 
being  promoted  recently  to  the  Medical  Inspector-Gen 
eralship,  the  General  sent  a  very  strong  telegram  to 
Washington,  asking  that  I  should  be  appointed  the  Medi 
cal  Director  of  the  Department.  The  reply  from  the 
Secretary  of  War  was  a  telegram,  ordering  me  to 
Louisville  at  once  to  the  Assistant  Surgeon-General.  I 
shall  most  probably  be  sent  to  Nashville  as  the  Director. 
Both  the  Secretary  and  Barnes  were  very  savage.  Al 
though  I  am  inconvenienced,  I  chuckle  mightily  at  show 
ing  them  all  in  Washington,  that  if  I  am  a  'singed  cat' 
there,  I  have  made  friends  here.  I  believe  Rosecrans 
is  really  attached  to  me." 

General  Rosecrans  and  Medical  Director  Mills  un 
questionably  had  meant  to  do  me  a  kindness,  when  they 
telegraphed  that  I  should  be  made  Medical  Director  on 
Dr.  Mills  leaving  St.  Louis,  but  as  I  stated  in  my  letter 
to  my  Mother,  I  afterwards  learned  that  the  Secretary 
of  War  was  very  much  enraged  at  their  suggestion; 
why,  it  is  hard  to  say.  The  telegram  he  sent  me,  re 
ceived  while  at  an  evening  party,  was  sent  by  his  own 
Assistant  Adjutant-General,  ordering  a  reply  by  tele 
graph.  Under  ordinary  circumstances,  it  was  strictly 
forbidden  by  War  Department  orders  for  an  officer 
not  on  command,  to  use  telegrams  for  Washington  an 
swers.  Moreover,  I  was  not  wanted  in  Louisville  as 
events  showed.  There  was  difficulty  in  assigning  me  a 
post.  I  was  quite  in  ignorance  of  the  cause  of  my  relief 
until  from  Dr.  Mills  and  General  Rosecrans  I  learned 
of  what  had  taken  place,  and  of  the  Secretary's 
resignation. 


326  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

I  immediately  got  ready  to  leave,  and  on  the  8th  of 
December  I  arrived  at  Louisville,  went  to  the  Gait 
House,  and  at  once  reported  to  the  Assistant  Surgeon- 
General,  where  I  was  kindly  received  by  the  Assistant 
Surgeon-General,  Colonel  Wood,  and  the  chief  of  his 
office,  Surgeon  Brown. 

On  the  9th  I  received  an  order  to  go  to  Nashville, 
Tennessee,  and  was  assigned  to  duty  as  Superintendent 
and  Director  of  the  general  hospital  at  that  place. 

The  duties  of  this  office  were  somewhat  vague.  It 
had  been  found  that  whenever  general  hospitals  were 
grouped,  it  was  expedient  that  some  medical  officer 
should  be  appointed,  clothed  with  authority  to  act  finally 
upon  such  matters  as  were  of  immediate  importance  to 
the  welfare  of  the  patients,  to  avoid  the  delay  of  re 
ferring  matters  of  business  to  the  Medical  Director  of 
the  Department,  often  absent.  In  this  way,  requisitions 
could  be  acted  upon  at  once  and  contracts  with  citizen 
physicians  and  nurses  made  without  delay.  Necessarily 
a  great  deal  was  left  to  the  discretion  and  common  sense 
of  the  superintendent. 

In  my  letter  home  of  the  I4th,  I  state  that  I  had 
arrived  safely  and  found  the  City  of  Nashville  almost 
in  a  state  of  partial  siege.  The  Southern  General  (Hood) 
had  moved  northward,  had  crossed  the  Tennessee  River, 
and  had  attacked  our  troops  at  Franklin,  Tennessee,  on 
the  3Oth  of  November.  His  object  was  to  threaten,  and 
if  possible,  to  capture,  the  City  of  Nashville,  forcing 
General  Thomas  to  retreat  and  thus  carry  the  campaign 
back  to  the  Ohio  River. 

In  the  attack  at  Franklin,  he  had  failed  with  heavy 
loss,  but  General  Thomas  had  slowly  withdrawn  his 
army  to  Nashville  in  order  to  strengthen  his  forces  and 
remount  his  cavalry.  Thomas  was  a  man  of  great  pru- 


St.  Louis  327 

dence  and  slow  in  movement,  possibly  over-cautious, 
and  hence  the  delay  which  characterized  his  movements. 

On  my  arrival  at  Nashville,  I  was  informed  by 
Assistant  Surgeon  Dallas  Bache,  U.  S.  A.,  who  was 
acting  as  the  Director  of  Hospitals,  that  a  battle  was 
hourly  expected,  but  that  while  there  were  a  large  num 
ber  of  hospitals  organized,  there  were  comparatively 
few  vacant  beds. 

On  assuming  the  office,  I  immediately  directed  all  my 
efforts  to  extend  the  hospital  accommodation  already  in 
existence.  I  therefore  called  upon  Brigadier-General 
Miller,  Post  Commandant,  to  turn  over  to  me  for  hos 
pital  purposes  the  Court  House  and  all  of  the  churches 
in  the  city.  He  immediately  turned  over  to  me  all  the 
churches,  but  it  was  considered  that  good  reasons  ex 
isted  for  retaining  the  Court  House. 

I  encountered  considerable  opposition  from  the  author 
ities  of  the  Catholic  Church,  as  they  objected  to  having 
their  church  turned  into  a  hospital,  and  said  that  it 
would  desecrate  its  sacred  character.  Father  Kelly 
visited  me,  and  was  quite  in  earnest  in  his  opposition; 
he  said  that  churches  were  respected  in  war.  I  asked 
him  to  consider  the  events  which  had  taken  place  in 
the  Italian  War,  and  reminded  him  that  all  of  the 
Catholic  churches  in  the  city  of  Milan  and  elsewhere 
had  been  seized  by  a  Catholic  Prince,  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  III.,  and  turned  into  hospitals.  He  laughed, 
admitted  the  fact,  and  then  explained  that  the  basement 
of  one  of  the  Catholic  churches  in  Nashville  was  used 
by  the  Sisters  as  a  home  for  the  community,  and  that 
the  sacred  vestments  had  all  been  carried  there.  I  told 
him  that  under  those  circumstances,  I  would  place  a 
military  guard  over  all  those  portions  of  the  building, 
and  that  no  one  should  be  allowed  to  intrude.  This 


328  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

was  done.  I  afterwards  learned  that  these  facts  were 
reported  to  General  Rosecrans,  who  was  at  first  very 
angry,  and  demanded  the  name  of  the  medical  officer 
so  offending.  He  was  told  ''Surgeon  Brinton."  "Oh, 
then!"  said  he,  "it  is  all  right." 

On  the  1 5th  and  I7th  of  December,  the  battle  of 
Nashville  occurred.  I  saw  it  at  first  from  a  housetop 
and  afterwards  rode  out  to  the  line  of  battle  four  or 
five  miles  from  the  city.  The  enemy's  attack  was  very 
fierce,  but  was  repelled  with  great  slaughter.  I  wit 
nessed  the  fighting  of  the  negro  troops;  they  behaved 
well.  Finally,  the  enemy  was  forced  to  retreat,  and 
was  vigorously  pressed  as  far  as  the  town  of  Franklin. 

Our  wounded  were  rapidly  brought  in  in  great  num 
bers,  and  soon  occupied  all  of  our  hospital  accommoda 
tions  and  the  hospital  tents,  which  had  been  hastily 
pitched.  The  wounded  black  troops  were  carried  to 
the  hospital  which  had  been  especially  assigned  to  them. 
The  wounded  rebels  were  also  in  a  day  or  two's  time 
brought  to  the  rebel  prison  hospital.  The  churches 
which  had  been  seized  answered  well  as  hospitals,  the 
pews  had  either  been  boarded  over  or  removed,  and  all 
of  the  church  hospitals  were  soon  filled  with  wounded 
with  the  exception  of  the  Episcopal  church,  which  was 
inconvenient  of  arrangement. 

The  negro  hospital  was  in  a  series  of  four-storied 
warehouses,  which  were  closely  packed  with  wounded. 
All  of  the  wounded  in  the  hospitals  were  promptly  and 
efficiently  cared  for,  and  as  a  rule,  did  well. 

Some  curious  occurrences  took  place  with  regard  to 
the  wounded  prisoners.  A  young  lady  came  to  my 
office  and  asked  to  see  a  wounded  prisoner  of  high  rank. 
I  told  her  that  sisters,  mothers  and  wives  alone  were 
allowed  to  see  prisoners;  was  she  either  of  these?  She 


St.  Louis  329 

said  no,  but  she  was  willing  to  marry  the  gentleman 
in  question,  if  that  was  the  only  way  she  could  obtain 
permission  to  see  him.  I  inquired  and  found  that  he 
was  not  badly  wounded.  I  told  her  to  come  to  see  me 
on  the  following  morning  at  a  given  hour.  I  sent 
for  him  to  be  brought  to  my  office  at  the  same  hour,  and 
so  the  interview  was  arranged,  and  no  rule  of  service 
was  broken. 

In  another  case  a  Southern  prisoner,  wounded  and 
of  high  rank,  begged  my  permission  to  ride  outside  of 
our  lines  to  visit  a  lady  to  whom  he  was  engaged, 
promising  me  on  his  word  of  honor  to  return  at  a  given 
hour.  I  told  him  I  could  not  do  this,  but  that  if  he 
would  give  me  his  word  of  honor  that  I  should  not 
be  injured  by  his  people,  I  would  ride  with  him;  he 
could  then  make  the  visit  he  desired,  and  come  back 
with  me  at  a  given  hour. 

At  ten  o'clock,  on  the  cold  winter's  night,  we  rode 
out  together.  We  passed  our  pickets,  and  went  to  her 
father's  house.  My  prisoner  had  a  long  interview  with 
his  lady  love,  while  I  sat  in  the  adjoining  parlor  talk 
ing  to  the  sisters,  and  at  the  hour  agreed  upon  we 
remounted,  rattled  along  the  pike,  passed  our  picket 
line  and  sentry  line  (I  having  the  password  of  the 
night).  Then  I  accompanied  my  friend  to  his  hos 
pital,  and  there  took  leave  of  him.  No  harm  came  of 
this  ride,  but  the  lady  in  question  changed  her  mind, 
and  afterwards  married  a  Union  officer.  On  our  re 
turn,  we  came  near  being  shot  by  our  pickets  of  negro 
cavalry,  whose  minds  work  slowly,  and  who  did  not 
understand  fully  the  use  of  a  password.  We  rode 
right  upon  them,  they  challenged  us  fiercely,  and  we 
were  obliged  to  dismount  instantly  to  save  ourselves 
from  being  shot 


330  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

One  or  two  of  the  Confederates,  wounded  and 
prisoners  in  our  hands,  were  Masons,  and  I  received 
several  letters  from  the  Order  in  the  North,  authorizing 
me  to  furnish  them  money.  Another  Southern  officer 
was  of  Jewish  birth.  One  of  the  most  prominent  and 
wealthiest  bankers  in  New  York,  Belmont,  authorized 
me  to  draw  on  him  for  any  amount  required. 

My  Christmas  dinner,  I  took  at  Governor  Bank- 
head's. 

My  office  as  Medical  Director  in  Nashville  was  very 
stylish;  I  had  three  or  four  sentries  and  an  excellent 
corps  of  clerks  and  cavalry  orderlies.  Some  of  my 
clerks  were  quite  well  educated. 

One  day  I  was  astonished  to  see  an  old  lady  de 
scend  from  an  old-fashioned  carriage,  and  come  into 
my  front  office,  announcing  herself  as  Mrs.  Polk.  She 
was  the  widow  of  President  Polk  and  wished  some 
thing  done,  which  I  attended  to  at  once.  I  gave  her 
my  arm  to  see  her  to  her  carriage,  having  sent  out  word 
to  the  sentries  to  salute  as  they  would  a  General  com 
manding,  and  to  fully  present  arms.  I  asked  her  never 
again  to  descend  from  her  carriage,  but  always  to  send 
in  for  me,  that  I  could  never  forget  that  she  was  the 
widow  of  a  dead  president.  She  seemed  to  be  very 
much  touched  by  these  marks  of  respect,  and  invited 
me  to  her  home. 

It  was  an  old-fashioned  residence  of  brick  with  a 
large  yard.  The  tomb  of  her  late  husband,  President 
Polk,  was  placed  in  the  yard  in  full  sight  of  her  win 
dows.  She  received  me  with  great  courtesy.  The  com 
pany  was  entirely  Southern  in  feeling.  I  went,  of  course, 
in  uniform.  One  of  the  young  ladies  who  had  been 
from  New  York,  but  who  was  exceedingly  Southern  in 
her  feelings,  made  i  personal  attack  on  me,  and  was 


St.  Louis  331 

very  rude.  I  replied  to  her  and  told  her  that  renegades 
were  always  more  bitter  than  original  enemies.  Mrs. 
Polk  learned,  after  I  left,  what  had  occurred.  She 
reprimanded  the  young  woman  severely,  saying  that  she 
would  never  have  an  officer  of  the  United  States  in 
sulted  under  her  roof,  and  she  forbade  the  offender 
ever  to  visit  her  home  again  until  a  sufficient  explana 
tion  had  been  made.  Mrs.  Polk  was  the  sister-in-law  of 
the  famous  General-Bishop  Polk.  She  always  after 
wards  spoke  well  of  me,  and  never  forgot  the  respect 
with  which  she  had  been  treated  at  my  office. 

My  quarters,  when  I  first  went  to  Nashville,  were  in 
the  part  of  a  house  which  belonged  to  a  family  of  strong 
"Secesh"  propensities.  I  shared  my  rooms  with  Cap 
tain  Jenny,  an  officer  whom  I  had  previously  known  at 
Shiloh.  He  was  a  graduate  of  the  School  of  Topo 
graphical  Engineers  in  Paris,  was  commissioned  as  an 
Engineer  in  our  army,  and  rendered  immense  service 
by  his  knowledge  of  roads  and  their  construction,  cor 
duroying  and  the  like.  He  originated  the  idea  of  sky 
scrapers. 

Here  let  me  relate  an  interesting  incident  which  did 
not  become  generally  known.  Jenny  had  charge  of  a 
pontoon  train.  On  the  day  of  the  fight  at  Nashville 
or  the  day  after,  in  a  pouring  rain,  I  met  him  hurrying 
his  train  of  boats  away  on  the  turnpike.  I  asked  him, 
"Where  are  you  going  ?"  He  said,  "God  knows,  where 
a  pontoon  train  can  do  the  least  possible  good." 

When  he  came  back  a  day  or  so  afterwards,  I  asked 
him  in  the  quiet  of  our  chamber,  "How  about  that  pon 
toon  train?"  He  said,  "That  is  a  very  good  story  and 
a  very  great  secret.  After  the  battle,  General  Thomas 
sent  for  me,  and  told  me  to  take  my  train  out  on  the 
Murfreesboro  pike.  I  said,  'General,  do  you  mean  the 


332  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Murfreesboro  Pike?'  because  I  knew  that  was  away 
from  the  enemy.  He  said,  'Yes,  on  the  Murfreesboro 
Pike.'  I  went  away,  but  I  was  uneasy  in  my  mind, 
for  I  knew  that  a  bridge  train  could  not  be  wanted 
where  there  were  no  rivers.  I  turned  and  went  back, 
and  again  I  asked  him,  'General,  do  you  mean  the 
Murfreesboro  Pike?'  He  seemed  heavy,  but  aroused 
himself,  and  half-angrily  said,  'Yes,  the  Murfreesboro 
Pike,  go  and  execute  your  orders.' 

"I  went  and  led  out  my  pontoon,  as  directed,  and  the 
next  day  was  recalled  by  a  messenger,  when  the  General 
discovered  his  mistake.  He  had  meant  to  say  the 
Granny  White  Pike,  but  at  the  time  of  the  battle,  he 
had  had  no  rest  or  sleep  for  two  or  three  days  and 
nights;  he  was  sleeping  heavily  when  aroused  to  give 
my  order,  was  dazed,  confounded  the  Murfreesboro 
with  the  Granny  White  Pike  and  gave  me  the  useless 
order.  If  the  train  had  been  sent  on  the  pike,  on  which 
it  should  have  been  sent,  it  could  have  been  used  at 
Duck  River  and  other  streams,  and  the  probability  is 
that  the  entire  forces  of  the  enemy  would  have  been 
captured.  As  it  was,  they  reached  Franklin,  slowly  re 
treated  southward  and  succeeded  in  making  good  their 
escape  by  crossing  the  Tennessee  River,  and  thus  reach 
ing  Alabama  safely."  * 

A  tolerably  good  public  order  was  maintained  at 
Nashville  at  this  time,  but  the  streets  were  very  dark, 
badly  lighted,  and  murder  occasionally  took  place.  I 
well  remember  how  often  I  have  walked  at  night  through 
the  streets  with  a  lantern  in  one  hand  and  a  cocked 
pistol  in  the  other,  calling  to  those  I  was  about  to  meet 
to  keep  on  the  other  side  of  the  street.  On  one  or  two 

*  See  the  Personal  Memoirs  of  General  Grant,  Volume  2,  page 
386. 


St.  Louis  333 

occasions,  I  heard  a  shot  fired  and  learned  afterwards 
that  men  had  been  killed. 

In  one  instance,  a  sentry  told  me,  that  it  was  "only 
a  damn  civilian." 

Toward  the  end  of  December,  in  order  to  increase 
the  capacity  of  our  hospitals  still  more,  a  number  of 
houses  belonging  to  people  of  Southern  sentiment  and 
affiliations  were  seized;  some  of  these  proved  satisfac 
tory,  but  as  a  rule  the  accommodation  was  too  crowded 
and  insufficient. 

On  one  occasion,  in  the  early  part  of  my  stay  at 
Nashville,  I  took  possession  of  a  large  circus  tent  for 
a  hospital,  but  found  that  it  was  useless,  since  it  was 
impossible  to  heat  it  in  any  way,  and  the  weather  was 
exceedingly  cold. 

The  management  of  most  of  the  hospitals  was  very 
good,  but  in  some,  it  was  not.  There  was  evident 
rascality.  I  could  not  tell  how  or  where  the  frauds 
were  accomplished.  To  test  the  matter,  knowing  that 
the  persons  who  furnished  the  hospital  were  men  of 
doubtful  character,  I  determined  to  make  a  wholesale 
arrest.  Accordingly,  one  Saturday  afternoon,  I  arrested 
eight  or  ten  of  the  merchants,  grocers,  victuallers  and 
general  provision  men.  I  had  all  of  their  books  sent 
to  my  office,  and  spent  Sunday  in  examining  the  in 
tricacies  of  their  accounts.  I  found  out  the  secret  of 
their  frauds,  which  consisted  in  charging  for  more 
goods  than  were  furnished,  and  paying  the  balance  in 
money  to  corrupt  officers,  interested  in  the  steal.  These, 
I  am  happy  to  say,  were  not  surgeons  in  charge,  but 
were  generally  the  lower  officers,  commissary  sergeants 
and  the  like.  All  of  this  system  was  at  once  thoroughly 
broken  up. 

One  of  the  medical  officers  in  charge  of  Hospital  No. 


334  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

15  had  made  a  large  fortune  in  various  ways,  probably 
by  falsity  in  his  accounts,  by  corrupt  speculation  of  every 
kind,  by  the  purchase  of  condemned  horses,  by  fattening 
them  on  government  land  and  on  government  provender 
and  re-selling  them,  and  by  many  objectionable  prac 
tices.  His  rascality  was  evident,  in  these  and  other 
ways,  which  I  cannot  state.  I  gave  him  the  option  of 
resigning  in  twelve  hours,  or  of  preferring  charges 
against  him.  He  chose  the  former,  and  the  Government 
was  well  rid  of  a  bad  officer. 

About  this  time,  an  event  occurred  which  well-nigh 
cost  me  my  commission.  A  portion  of  the  North  was 
at  this  time  largely  excited  on  the  subject  of  negro 
troops.  By  some  they  were  much  over-estimated.  One 
of  these  negrophiles  was  General  Thomas,  the  Assistant 
Adjutant-General.  Not  greatly  esteemed  at  Washing 
ton,  he  seized  upon  the  negro  question  as  a  means  of 
ingratiating  himself  in  the  estimation  of  his  superiors. 
He  was  sent  from  Washington  to  the  west  by  the 
Secretary  of  War  with  a  kind  of  roving  commission, 
his  duty  being  to  look  after  the  interest  of  negro  troops 
wherever  they  might  be  found.  His  great  object  was 
to  praise  the  negro  troops,  and  to  find  as  much  fault  as 
possible  wherever  he  thought  their  interest  neglected. 

Among  other  places,  he  visited  Nashville,  and  in 
spected  the  negro  hospitals.  With  one  of  these  hos 
pitals,  No.  16,  he  professed  himself  greatly  displeased. 
This  was  the  warehouse  hospital,  several  stories  in 
height,  each  room  or  ward  of  which  was  provided  with 
a  stove  of  the  large  kind  known  as  the  "bar-room" 
stove.  These,  the  negroes,  in  spite  of  directions  and 
precautions  to  the  contrary,  kept  heated  red-hot;  the 
men,  too,  were  dirty,  and  to  a  certain  degree,  this  could 
not  be  prevented,  as  it  was  the  character  of  their  race. 


St.  Louis  335 

Give  them  what  clean  linen  we  could,  what  clean  pillows 
and  pillow-cases  we  could,  they  would,  in  a  very  short 
time,  be  in  a  filthy  condition.  Indeed,  it  seemed, 
strangely  enough,  to  be  a  prominent  idea  of  the  negro 
soldiers  to  keep  their  hair  thoroughly  greased,  and  for 
this  purpose  they  would  steal  the  candles  and  grease  of 
every  description,  and  using  it  plentifully  as  a  pomade, 
would  necessarily  get  their  beds  in  a  filthy  state.  This 
condition  of  affairs  General  Thomas,  spied,  and  pro 
fessed  himself  to  be  very  indignant  with  the  condition 
of  his  beloved  negro  troops. 

He  sent  for  me  in  haste;  I  met  him  in  the  street,  and 
he  opened  on  me  a  tirade  of  abuse,  such  as  no  officer 
should  have  addressed  to  another.  He  did  not  know  me 
personally,  but  I  frequently  had  met  him  in  Washington 
and  knew  exactly  what  his  status  in  the  War  Depart 
ment  was.  I  attempted  to  explain  to  him  the  cause  of 
trouble,  but  he  would  hear  no  explanation.  He  took 
the  opportunity  of  showing  his  power  and  rank,  and 
ended  his  personal  abuse  of  me  with  the  threat  that  he 
would  telegraph  to  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  have  me 
dismissed  from  the  army  at  once.  Of  course,  I  had 
nothing  to  say.  I  simply  bowed  to  him  and  turned 
on  my  heel  and  left  him. 

I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  and  I  knew  that  a  com 
plaint  of  any  kind  to  the  Secretary  of  War,  concern 
ing  me,  coming  no  matter  from  whom,  would  be  in 
stantly  seized  as  an  opportunity  for  dismissal. 

Now  it  happened  that  there  was  on  duty  at  Nash 
ville  a  most  excellent  and  gentlemanly  old  soldier  of  the 
regular  army,  General  Donaldson,  a  man  of  rank,  good- 
heartedness  and  kindness,  and  also  a  man  of  means. 
As  he  was  the  Chief  Quartermaster,  I  had  frequent 


336  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

occasion  to  call  on  him  for  all  imaginable  supplies.  I 
had  bothered  him  a  good  deal,  but  I  knew  that  he  be 
lieved  that  I  was  trying  to  do  my  duty,  and  had  a  cer 
tain  sort  of  good  feeling  toward  me.  Moreover,  his 
step-son,  who  had  broken  his  nose,  was  a  patient  of 
mine. 

I  went  to  General  Donaldson  and  told  him  of  the 
circumstances.  I  told  him  that  it  was  impossible  to 
keep  the  negroes  clean,  told  him  of  my  relations  with 
the  Secretary  of  War,  and  explained  to  him  that  any 
report  from  General  Thomas  would  be  most  injurious 
to  me.  I  went  to  him  because  I  knew  that  General 
Thomas  was  about  to  dine  with  him  that  afternoon. 
"Put  your  heart  at  rest,"  said  General  Donaldson  to 
me,  "I  know  Thomas,  I  understand  all  the  circum 
stances,  and  will  take  great  care  to  see  that  you  shall 
not  be  injured  in  any  way." 

The  dinner  took  place,  and  Thomas  was  drawn  out 
to  make  his  complaint,  concerning  me.  General  Don 
aldson  told  him  that  I  was  not  remiss  in  my  care  of 
the  negro  troops;  on  the  contrary,  that  I  was  a  very 
energetic  officer,  and  called  upon  him  more  than  any 
other  officer  had  done  for  supplies  for  the  comfort  of 
the  negro  troops.  As  a  result,  he  impressed  General 
Thomas  with  the  idea  of  my  efficiency  in  that  particular 
direction,  and  so  influenced  him  that  the  Adjutant-Gen 
eral,  in  making  his  report,  stated  that  my  services  in  the 
interest  of  the  negro  troops  had  been  of  the  most  valua 
ble  character,  and  submitted  not  a  word  of  complaint. 

I  insert  here  a  note  which  I  received  from  General 
Donaldson,  which  shows  the  opinion  entertained  of  the 
Adjutant-General  and  his  efforts  on  behalf  of  the 
negroes : 


St.  Louis  337 

"Nashville, 

Jan.  15,  1865. 
Dear  Doctor: 

I  went  to  see  Genl.  Thomas  this  morning,  and  talked 
with  him  about  the  colored  hospital.  I  took  occasion  to 
speak  of  you,  and  the  result  of  our  talk  was  Genl. 
Thomas  said  he  would  take  no  steps  to  hurt  you.  We 
all  understand  how  this  subject  is  regarded,  and  how  it 
may  be  used  to  injure.  Genl.  Thomas,  however,  was  very 

much  incensed  against  a  doctor  by  the  name  of ' — , 

who  is  said  to  be  much  in  the  habit  of  cursing  his  pa 
tients. 

Very  truly, 

J.  S.  DONALDSON/' 

I  might  here  state  as  a  curious  fact  that  the  negroes 
in  this  crowded  hospital,  with  their  stoves  red-hot,  with 
the  wards  overcrowded  with  men,  women  and  children, 
all  did  remarkably  well.  It  is  true  that  the  odor  of 
the  wards  was  abominable,  and  the  cleanliness  by  no 
means  what  could  have  been  wished,  yet  their  wounds 
healed  kindly  and  few  intercurrent  diseases  occurred. 
The  men  seemed  to  be  entirely  free  from  pneumonia, 
and  affections  of  that  kind,  from  which  the  negroes 
are  so  apt  to  suffer.  Comparatively  few  deaths  took 
place,  less  indeed  than  the  average  number  of  such  cases 
of  white  troops  in  well-ventilated  hospitals. 

It  was  decided  by  the  War  Department  to  build  for 
the  negro  troops  a  large  pavilion  hospital  on  the  best 
model,  thoroughly  equipped,  well  ventilated,  and  situated 
two  or  three  miles  from  town.  The  negro  occupants 
were  here  placed  under  the  best  hygienic  conditions, 
viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  white  troops,  yet  the  mor 
tality  was  fearful.  They  died  from  pneumonia  and  affec 
tions  of  the  chest  very  rapidly,  and  the  results  of  the  new 


338  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

hospital  contrasted  most  unfavorably  with  the  apparent 
overcrowded  hospitals  in  which  they  had  been  placed 
in  the  city. 

In  the  early  part  of  my  stay  in  Nashville,  when  the 
negro  hospitals  were  full,  a  great  degree  of  insubordina 
tion  was  noticed  among  these  troops.  Those  who  were 
not  sick  or  injured  insisted  upon  having  free  access  to 
the  hospital,  especially  when  the  women  and  children 
were  furnished  shelter  in  the  hospital  buildings.  They 
beat  down  the  guard,  and  attempted  to  force  their  way 
in.  I  was  called  to  one  of  these  hospitals  on  an  occa 
sion  of  this  kind.  The  turbulent  crowd  gathered  around 
the  gate,  and  fiercely  insisted  upon  pressing  in.  I 
stepped  between  them  and  the  guard  behind  them,  closed 
the  gates,  and  ordered  the  guard  to  load  with  ball 
cartridge,  and  let  the  men  see  that  this  was  done.  I 
instructed  them  to  fire  on  the  first  man  who  should 
attempt  to  pass  the  gates.  I  was  asked,  "Do  you  mean 
this?"  I  said,  "Yes."  The  gates  were  opened  as  I  went 
out,  but  not  a  single  man  attempted  to  pass  the  sentry 
line. 

At  the  negro  hospital  No.  16,  a  singular  event  took 
place.  In  visiting  the  hospital,  one  day  when  I  was  in 
the  office,  examining  some  of  the  books,  I  noticed  in 
the  mirror  on  the  wall,  the  Surgeon  in  charge  stealthily 
creeping  along  the  entry,  in  stocking  feet,  and  placing 
his  ear  to  the  chink  of  the  door  in  an  endeavor  to  hear 
what  I  was  saying.  I  detected  in  the  books  evidence  of 
irregularity,  and  on  thinking  the  matter  over,  I  was 
convinced  that  I  had  seen  that  man  before.  It  flashed 
across  me  all  at  once  that  long  before  the  war,  in  a 
visit  to  Cherry  Hill  Prison  at  Philadelphia,  at  a  time 
at  which  my  friend,  Dr.  Lassiter,  was  the  resident  phy 
sician,  he  had  asked  me  to  see  a  prisoner,  a  counter- 


St.  Louis  339 

feiter,  who  was  engaged  in  carving  in  ivory  some  peculiar 
models.  My  Surgeon-in-charge  of  that  hospital  was 
that  man;  I  was  sure  of  it.  I  sent  for  him  to  come 
to  my  office,  and  I  said  to  him,  ''Doctor,  I  have  been 
looking  over  your  accounts;  something  is  wrong;  but 
Doctor  I  have  seen  you  before  at  Cherry  Hill  Prison; 
I  know  you."  He  changed  color,  and  dropped  on  his 
knees,  and  made  me  the  most  astonishing  confession. 
He  repeated  as  if  reading  from  a  paper,  the  numerous 
incidents  of  robbery  and  theft  of  hospital  stores;  thus 
he  would  say,  "On  such  and  such  a  day,  I  stole  an 'ounce 
of  quinine,"  and  so  he  enumerated  a  long  list  of  articles 
pilfered,  extending  over  a  considerable  period  of  time. 
These  articles,  he  confessed  that  he  sold  to  Southern 
agents,  and  that  they  were  smuggled  into  the  Southern 
Confederacy.  He  and  his  father-in-law  had  been  con 
victed  of  counterfeiting  United  States  bank-notes. 
They  were  from  Ohio,  and  had  been  imprisoned  in  the 
Eastern  Penitentiary  at  Philadelphia.  Of  course,  I  re 
moved  him  from  the  hospital  and  placed  him  under 
arrest.  I  notified  the  Assistant  General  and  Surgeon- 
General  and  through  them  the  Secretary  of  War.  I  at 
once  received  a  telegram  to  place  the  man  in  the  mili 
tary  prison,  to  report  the  case  to  General  Thomas  and 
to  have  him  tried  by  court-martial,  and  in  the  mean 
time,  to  open  all  letters  addressed  to  him  and  find  out 
what  I  could.  These  orders  were  literally  executed. 
The  Secretary  was  exceedingly  angry  and  was  deter 
mined  to  punish  him  severely. 

However,  letters  continued  to  arrive  from  his  wife 
near  Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  who  knew  nothing  of  the  events 
which  had  been  occurring;  pitiful  heart-broken  letters, 
begging  her  husband  to  abstain  from  evil  courses,  to 
commit  no  robberies  and  to  desist  from  sending  her 


340  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

blankets  and  stores  which  she  said  she  was  sure  he  could 
not  have  acquired  honestly.  She  told  him  at  the  same 
time  that  her  children  were  suffering  for  food,  that  she 
had  no  credit  with  the  baker  or  the  grocer,  and  that 
she  did  not  know  what  would  become  of  them. 

Her  letters  were  those  of  an  honest  woman,  trying 
to  do  right  and  in  great  trouble  of  mind  and  body. 
These  letters  impressed  me  so  much  that  I  sent  them  to 
the  Secretary  of  War  with  a  strong  appeal  on  behalf 
of  the  man.  Finally,  I  was  informed  that  I  might  leave 
him  in  the  military  prison  under  the  idea  of  condign 
punishment  to  come,  and  I  did  so.  The  poor  fellow 
remained  in  prison  under  the  idea  that  he  might  be 
executed  at  any  moment.  He  was  still  in  prison  when 
I  left,  and  I  have  never  heard  anything  more  about  him. 

I  have  said  already  that  the  hospitals  in  Nashville 
numbered  eighteen  or  twenty.  Among  these  was  one 
especially  appropriated  for  small-pox  patients.  I  had 
on  an  average  a  chaplain  and  a  half  for  each  of  the 
ordinary  hospitals,  but  for  the  small-pox  hospital  it  was 
impossible  to  obtain  the  services  of  such  an  officer.  One 
morning,  I  announced  that  I  intended  in  two  days  to 
detail  a  chaplain  for  the  small-pox  hospital.  In  the 
course  of  the  next  twenty-four  hours,  I  was  visited  by 
almost  every  chaplain  in  Nashville,  each  one  representing 
to  me  how  much  good  he  was  doing,  and  how  injurious 
it  would  be  for  the  cause  of  religion  and  to  the  Govern 
ment  to  move  him  from  his  present  position.  I  finally 
selected  one  of  the  most  inefficient  chaplains  under  my 
command,  and  detailed  him,  despite  his  protest,  to  the 
hated  office.  He  placed  his  tent  outside  of  the  limits 
of  the  hospital.  I  found  on  my  next  visit  the  following 
morning  that  he  was  by  no  means  over-officious  in  his 
ministrations,  nor  did  he  ever  become  so. 


St.  Louis  341 

At  this  time,  numbers  of  civilian  refugees  were  pour 
ing  into  Nashville  from  the  surrounding  country.  They 
were  a  wretched  set,  uneducated,  ignorant,  half-bar 
barous,  and  in  the  most  destitute  state.  Very  many  of 
their  women  and  children  required  hospital  accommoda 
tion,  and  for  this  purpose,  a  refugee  hospital  was  estab 
lished  and  eventually  proved  of  value. 

When  I  first  entered  on  duty  at  Nashville,  my  detail 
was  that  of  Superintendent  and  Director  of  General 
Hospitals.  Later,  in  '64,  I  was  ordered  by  General 
Thomas,  commanding  the  Department  of  the  Cumber 
land,  to  act  as  Assistant  Medical  Director.  On  the  nth 
of  January,  '65,  I  was  ordered  to  perform  the  duties  of 
Acting  Medical  Director  of  the  Department  of  the  Cum 
berland  in  the  absence  of  the  Medical  Director  in  the 
Field,  but  on  his  return  to  Nashville  on  February  I5th 
I  was  relieved  from  this  duty,  and  continued  to  act 
under  my  first  detail  of  duty,  that  of  Superintendent  and 
Director  of  General  Hospitals. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

LIFE    AT    NASHVILLE LECTURES HOME 

The  Medical  Director  on  General  Thomas's  Staff  was 
Surgeon  George  E.  Cooper.  He  had  been  the  chief 
witness  in  the  Court-martial  of  Surgeon-General  Ham 
mond,  and  it  was  especially  on  his  testimony  that  Ham 
mond  had  been  cashiered  from  the  army.  He  was  a 
peculiar  man,  rough,  coarse,  and  in  a  certain  way  honest. 
He  hated  Hammond,  and  at  my  first  interview  with  him 
on  my  arrival  at  Nashville,  he  asked  me,  "Doctor,  you 
were  a  friend  of  Hammond's,  were  you  not?"  I  said, 
"Yes."  "Do  you  believe  him  guilty  or  innocent?"  I 
said,  "I  believe  him  innocent  of  fraud  or  intentional 
wrong-doing."  He  said,  "I  am  glad  you  say  so;  I  knew 
you  were  a  friend  of  Hammond's;  I  asked  you  the  ques 
tion  to  see  whether  you  would  answer  me  in  a  straight 
forward  manner.  Now,  Doctor,  I  will  tell  you,  in  the 
late  trial,  it  was  Hammond's  head  or  mine,  and  I  saved 
mine." 

Cooper  treated  me  well,  dealing  with  me  in  a  straight 
forward  and  honest  manner,  and  I  never  received  any 
thing  but  kindness  at  his  hands  during  my  stay  in 
Nashville. 

Nashville  was  always  strong  in  its  Southern  feeling. 
There  was  very  little  Union  element  present,  and  where 
it  existed,  it  depended  upon  self-interest  rather  than 
patriotism.  The  lower  classes  were  altogether  "secesh." 

I  saw  a  remarkable  evidence  of  presence  of  mind  on 

342 


Life  at  Nashville — Lectures — Home      343 

one  occasion,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  the 
power  of  one  soldier  when  on  duty.  A  soldier  had 
arrested  two  Southern  men  and  was  trying  to  take  them 
to  the  military  prison.  They  refused  to  go  with  him, 
and  the  surrounding  crowd  sympathized  with  them,  and 
obstructed  the  soldier  in  his  duties.  Finally,  he  cocked 
his  gun,  stepped  back  one  pace,  brought  his  gun  so  as 
to  cover  one  of  the  prisoners  in  front,  and  then  ordered 
them  to  march  straight  before  him.  He  said,  "If  anyone 
attempts  to  interfere  with  these  men,  or  to  obstruct  me 
in  the  discharge  of  my  duty,  I  will  fire,  I  will  kill  one 
or  two;  and  then  you  may  do  with  me  as  you  like." 

Two  or  three  officers,  I  among  them,  were  sitting  on 
a  balcony  of  a  restaurant,  smoking,  and  seeing  the  diffi 
culty,  but  not  knowing  what  it  was,  hurried  down  to  his 
assistance,  but  the  trouble  had  subsided  when  we  reached 
there.  The  men  were  marching  quietly  away  as  prison 
ers,  in  front  of  this  solitary  soldier,  who  understood 
how  thoroughly  to  discharge  his  duty. 

On  one  occasion,  I  received  a  peculiar  request  from 
the  Provost  Marshal.  He  said  a  negro  came  to  his 
office  a  few  days  before,  a  servant  in  an  old  family  which 
had  left  Nashville  at  the  time  it  was  occupied  by  our 
troops.  Before  going,  he  stated  that  they  had  taken  all 
of  their  silver  plate  and  valuable  papers,  had  placed 
them  in  a  coffin  and  had  buried  them  in  their  lot  in 
the  cemetery.  The  Provost  Marshal  had  been  ordered 
to  examine  the  lot  and  the  coffin,  and  see  whether  the 
money  was  there  or  not.  For  some  reason  or  other, 
he  fancied  that  a  doctor  would  be  a  protection  against 
ghosts,  or  the  like,  and  thought  that  it  would  be  well 
to  have  me  go  with  him  when  he  made  the  examina 
tion.  Foolishly,  I  consented  to  accompany  him  on  this 
horrible  ghoul-like  errand.  We  went  to  the  cemetery 


344  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

in  broad  daylight,  the  guards  were  placed  at  the  gates, 
and  we  approached  the  vault.  Now,  it  was  not  a  vault 
in  our  eastern  sense  of  the  term.  Nashville  is  built 
upon  a  rock,  the  soil  is  only  a  foot  or  two  deep,  and 
so  instead  of  burying  their  bodies,  they  placed  them 
upon  the  ground  in  small  iron  houses  constructed  above 
ground,  instead  of  digging  a  vault  beneath  the  surface. 
On  examining  the  door  of  the  vault,  there  were  evident 
signs  that  it  had  been  opened  by  force,  with  a  crowbar 
or  pick,  within  twenty-four  hours.  However,  the  Pro 
vost  Marshal  went  on.  The  door  was  forced.  There 
were  coffins  in  plenty,  but  no  evidences  of  posthumous 
disarrangements  were  to  be  seen.  The  negro  adhered 
to  his  story.  He  stated  that  he  had  helped  to  deposit 
the  silver  in  the  coffin,  and  had  helped  to  bring  the 
coffin  to  the  vault,  but  that  things  did  not  look  as  he 
left  them. 

The  Provost  Marshal  determined  to  search.  He  in 
sisted  upon  unscrewing  several  coffins,  but  the  treasure 
was  not  to  be  found.  Finally,  influenced  by  his  dislike 
of  the  work,  and  by  my  earnest  solicitations,  he  de 
sisted  and  reported  at  headquarters  the  result  of  his 
search.  A  great  outcry  was  raised  about  this  piece  of 
vandalism,  and  I  afterwards  learned  that  the  negro  had 
been  right  in  his  statement,  but,  somewhat  unguarded 
in  the  use  of  his  tongue,  he  had  let  out  his  secret  before 
the  information  was  given  to  the  Provost  Marshal,  and 
the  parties  concerned  had  gone  the  night  before  and 
removed  the  treasure  sought  for.  I  was  very  much 
ashamed  of  my  part  in  this  transaction,  for  which  I 
have  no  excuse  except  that  of  a  certain  kind  of  morbid 
professional  curiosity  of  an  anatomical  pathological 
variety. 


Life  at  Nashville — Lectures — Home     345 

At  this  time,  a  series  of  robberies  occurred  in  my 
office,  which  baffled  all  my  efforts  at  investigation.  Let 
ters  for  patients  in  the  hospital,  with  uncertain  addresses, 
and  oftentimes  to  medical  officers,  were  sent  daily  to  my 
office  for  distribution  to  the  hospitals.  Repeated  com 
plaints  were  made  that  letters  known  to  be  sent  were  not 
received  at  their  destination,  especially  when  these  let 
ters  contained  drafts  or  money.  Investigation  satisfied 
me  that  the  thefts  were  committed  in  my  office  by  some 
of  the  clerks  or  attendants  on  duty.  I  had  frequent 
interviews  with  officials  of  the  Post-office  Department, 
but  all  our  attempts  failed  to  detect  the  delinquents. 
We  therefore  placed  decoy  letters  in  the  mail,  contain 
ing  marked  bank-notes.  Those  which  I  placed  in  my 
box  myself  were  stolen  during  the  night.  I  determined 
to  arrest  everybody  in  the  office,  clerks,  orderlies,  and 
sentries, — and  I  should  say  that  the  sentries  had  been 
changed  the  night  before,  and  strangers  from  distant 
commands  placed  on  duty.  A  thorough  search  was  made 
of  the  parties  interested,  the  carpets  were  torn  up,  and 
drawers,  books  and  papers  overhauled,  but  all  in  vain, 
the  daring  thieves  were  never  discovered,  and  no  light 
could  be  obtained  as  to  the  adroit  robberies. 

On  the  6th  of  March,  1865,  I  received  an  invitation 
from  the  medical  officers  on  duty  at  Nashville,  asking 
me  to  give  them  a  series  of  eight  lectures  on  some  points 
connected  with  the  surgical  history  of  the  war. 

This  I  was  most  glad  to  do.  I  selected  for  my  sub 
ject  the  flight  of  projectiles,  and  the  character  of  the 
wounds  they  produce  at  the  entrance  and  exit,  always  a 
favorite  subject  of  mine.  The  projectiles  to  illustrate 
the  course,  were  kindly  furnished  to  me  by  Major  Mor- 
decai,  of  the  Ordnance  Department,  and  rifle  barrels 


346  Personal  Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

were  sent  to  show  the  character  of  the  rifling,  etc. 
Many  illustrations  were  prepared  by  one  of  my  clerks, 
who  was  a  good  draughtsman.  These  projectiles  and 
diagrams  I  have  still,  and  have  often  used  them.  The 
lectures  were  delivered  in  the  Hall  of  the  Masonic  Build 
ing,  a  large  room.  My  audience  was  a  brilliant  one, 
including  all  of  the  medical  officers  in  Nashville,  many 
of  the  Staff  and  other  military  officers  in  uniform,  and 
others.  I  had  two  cavalry  soldiers  for  assistants  in 
uniform,  and  I  lectured  in  full  uniform.  I  enjoyed  these 
lectures  very  much,  and  was  only  sorry  that  I  could 
not  give  the  entire  course.  This,  however,  was  not  pos 
sible,  as  the  lectures  were  brought  to  a  close  by  the 
acceptance  at  Washington  of  my  resignation.  Of  this 
I  must  say  a  few  words. 

Since  I  had  been  relieved  at  Washington  in  October, 

1864,  and  sent  to  the  West,  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
that  in  view  of  the  approaching  termination  of  the  war, 
my  family  interests  at  home  imperatively  demanded  that 
after  serving  a  few  months  more,  I  should  send  in  my 
resignation.     This,  I  accordingly  did  on  February   16, 

1865,  in  the  following  letters: 

"Nashville,  Feby.  16,  1865. 
Genl:— 

I  have  the  honor  hereby  to  tender  my  immediate  and 
unconditional  resignation  of  my  commission,  as  Surgeon 
of  Volunteers  (formerly  Brigade  Surgeon,  August  3Oth, 
1861).  I  am  led  to  do  so  by  the  urgent  necessity  which 
exists  for  my  immediate  presence  at  my  home  in  Phila 
delphia,  in  order  that  I  may  protect  the  financial  interests 
of  my  mother  and  sisters,  jeopardized  by  unexpected 
circumstances,  which  no  one  but  myself  can  properly  act 
upon. 


Life  at  Nashville — Lectures — Home     347 

I  hereby  state  that  I  am  not  indebted  to  the  U.  S., 
that  I  have  no  public  property  in  my  possession,  except 
that  which  I  am  prepared  to  turn  over  to  the  proper  offi 
cers  ;  that  I  have  not  been  absent  without  leave ;  that  no 
charges  exist  affecting  my  pay,  and  that  I  have  not  been 
subject  at  any  time  to  charges,  or  trial  by  Court-martial. 
I  was  last  paid  by  Major  A.  Holt  to  January  31,  1865. 

Very  Respty, 

Yr.  Obt.  Servt. 

J.    H.    BRINTON, 

Surg.  U.  S.  V. 
Brig.  Genl.  L.  Thomas, 
Adjt.  Genl.  U.  S.  A. 

War  Department,  Washington,  D.  C." 

After  a  delay  of  some  weeks,  I  received,  March  23, 
1865,  the  following  acceptance  of  my  resignation: 

"B.  162.    B.  165. 

War  Dept.  Adjt.  General's  Office, 

Washington,  March  n,  1865. 
Sir: 

Your  resignation  has  been  accepted  by  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  to  take  effect  the  Qth  day  of  March, 
1865,  on  condition  that  you  receive  no  final  payments 
until  you  shall  have  satisfied  the  Pay  Department  that 
you  are  not  indebted  to  the  United  States.  I  am  Sir, 

Very  resptfy. 

Yr.  Oft.  Servt., 

(Sd)     S.  F.  CHALF1N, 

Asst.  Adjt.  Genl. 
Surgeon  John  H.  Brinton, 
U.  S.  Volunteers, 

Nashville,  Tenn." 


348  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

Presenting  this  order  at  the  headquarters  of  General 
Thomas,  I  was  relieved  from  duty  by  the  accompanying 
order : 

"Headquarters,  Department  of  the  Cumberland, 
Nashville,  Tenn.  March  23,  1865. 

SPECIAL  FIELD  ORDERS  NO.  76 

[Extract] 

IV.  Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton,  U.  S.  V.,  is  hereby  re 
lieved  from  duty  in  this  Department,  his  resignation 
having  been  accepted  by  the  War  Department. 

By  Command  of  Major  General  Thomas, 

HENRY  M.  CIST, 

Asst.  Adjt.  Genl. 
Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton, 

"U.  S.  V." 

No  longer  a  soldier,  I  was  now  a  citizen,  and  having 
turned  over  my  official  belongings  to  my  successor  in 
office,  I  prepared  to  return  home. 

I  received  from  some  of  the  surgeons  on  duty  at 
Nashville,  a  number  of  specimens  of  gunshot.  These 
they  had  a  right  to  give  me,  as  they  had  been  notified 
from  Washington  that  they  need  forward  no  more  wet 
preparations  to  the  Museum.  I  was  glad  to  get  a  few, 
and  had  them  barreled,  and  afterward  took  them  to 
Philadelphia,  where  they  now  form  part  of  my  cabinet. 
I  had  also  collected  some  shot,  shell  and  muskets,  used 
to  illustrate  my  lectures  at  the  Masonic  Hall.  All  these, 
I  passed  home  under  the  following  orders,  a  permit, 
which  I  obtained  without  trouble,  as  all  my  friends 
seemed  to  sympathize  with  me  in  my  desire  to  take 
home  my  military  illustrations  for  my  future  lectures. 


Life  at  Nashville — Lectures — Home     349 

"Headquarters,  Department  of  the  Cumberland, 
Office  Prov.  Mar.  Genl., 

Nashville,  March  23,  1865. 

Permit  is  hereby  granted  Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton, 
Supt.  &  Director  of  Hospitals  to  ship  by  express  or 
otherwise  from  Nashville,  Tenn.,  to  Philadelphia,  Pa., 
one  keg,  two  boxes,  and  one  package,  containing  two 
(2)  damaged  and  condemned  muskets  and  objects  of 
professional  interest. 

By  command  of 

MAJ.  GENL.  THOMAS, 
(Sgd)     R.   M.   GOODWIN, 

Capt.  &  A.  P.  W.  Genl." 

"Headquarters,  Department  of  the  Cumberland, 

March  23,  1865. 

Guard  and  Military  Conductors  will  pass  J.  H.  Brin 
ton,  Esq.,  beyond  the  limits  of  this  Department. 

By  Order  MAJ.  GENL.  THOMAS, 

SOUTHARD  HOFFMAN, 

A.  A.  G." 

I  had  greatly  enjoyed  my  duty  in  Nashville.  It  had 
been  full  of  incident  and  new  experiences.  At  first,  I 
had  been  overworked,  but  had  soon  gotten  affairs  in 
good  running  order,  and  with  the  exception  of  the 
Thomas  incident,  everything  had  gone  along  smoothly. 
I  had  formed,  too,  some  very  pleasant  acquaintances,  and 
among  others,  I  greatly  enjoyed  the  society  of  Surgeon 
Fletcher  on  duty  as  Medical  Purveyor.  He  was  an  Eng 
lishman,  thoroughly  educated,  and  a  deep  Shakesperean 
scholar.  Many  and  many  a  pleasant  talk  we  had  together, 
and  much  I  learned  from  him.  After  the  war  was  ended, 
he  was  in  the  office  of  the  Surgeon-General  at  Washing- 


350  Personal   Memoirs  of  John  H.  Brinton 

ton,  and  was  employed  in  the  library  of  the  office  of  the 
Surgeon-General,  and  in  the  preparation,  with  Dr.  Bil 
lings,  of  the  Index  Medicus. 

After  taking  leave  of  my  friends  at  Nashville,  my 
last  official  act  was  to  order  the  running  to  Louisville 
of  a  hospital  train  of  cars,  for  as  the  Director  of  Hos 
pitals,  I  had  charge  of  two  or  three  trains,  thoroughly 
fitted  up  for  the  conveyance  of  sick  and  wounded.  On 
one  of  these,  I  shipped  a  number  of  invalids,  with  whom 
I  went  to  Louisville.  I  was  accompanied  by  one  of  my 
orderlies  who  had  formed  a  strange  attachment  to  me, 
why,  I  could  not  tell.  He  was  as  sharp  as  steel,  and 
I  never  quite  trusted  him.  In  fact,  at  the  time  of  the 
robbery  of  letters  in  my  office,  I  suspected  him.  But 
odd  as  it  may  seem,  the  harder  I  was  on  him,  the  more 
he  clung  to  me.  Before  I  left,  he  said  he  would  like 
a  few  days'  absence,  and  come  to  Philadelphia  with  me. 
I  assented  and  he  did  so,  looking  after  my  comforts 
with  the  utmost  care,  and  paying  great  attention  to  the 
safety  of  my  kegs  and  boxes;  he  behaved,  indeed,  as  a 
model  attendant. 

We  stopped  in  Louisville,  where  I  saw  the  Assistant 
Surgeon-General,  and  afterwards  stayed  a  day  in  Cin 
cinnati.  We  then  went  straight  to  Philadelphia,  arriv 
ing  there  in  the  latter  days  of  March,  1865;  my  orderly 
starting  for  Nashville  again  on  the  same  evening. 

I  found  my  Mother  and  sisters  well.  How  glad 
I  was  to  be  with  them  again  I  cannot  tell  you.  It 
seemed  strange  to  me  to  be  once  more  a  civilian,  to  lay 
aside  my  uniform,  and  to  feel  that  I  was  again  my 
own  master.  But  it  was  hard  to  discard  the  habits 
acquired  in  the  army,  and  to  fall  again  into  the  humdrum 
customs  of  peaceful  life.  The  Rebellion  was  now  in 
its  death  gasp,  military  operations  were  over  in  the  West, 


Life  at  Nashville — Lectures — Home     351 

and  were  closing  in  the  East.  On  the  Qth  of  April, 
1865,  General  Lee  surrendered  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia,  and  the  war  was  practically  at  an  end.  The 
news  was  telegraphed  from  Washington  about  ten 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  our  city  was  notified  by 
the  screeching  of  the  whistles  of  the  fire  engines  and 
by  clamor  and  noise  of  every  imaginable  character. 
The  War  was  over.  The  great  experiment  had  been 
made.  It  had  been  definitely  proven  that  the  United 
States  was  a  Nation. 


APPENDIX 

LETTERS  FROM   GENERALS   GRANT,   SHERIDAN   AND  ROSECRANS 


APPENDIX 

NEAR  CORINTH,  Miss., 

May  24th,  1862. 
HON.  E.  B.  WASHBURN, 

Washington,  D.  C. 
DEAR  SIR: 

Permit  me  to  introduce  to  your  acquaintance  Surgeon 
Brinton  of  the  Army,  a  gentleman  who  has  served  on  my 
Staff  at  Cairo  and  in  the  field.  Dr.  Brinton  was  with  me  at 
Belmont,  Fort  Henry  and  Fort  Donelson,  and  as  we  have 
lived  together  most  of  the  time  for  the  last  six  months  our 
acquaintance  is  more  than  transient,  it  has  become  intimate. 
Any  attention  shown  Dr.  Brinton  will  be  regarded  as  a 
personal  favor  to  myself. 

Yours  truly, 

U.  S.  GRANT. 


HOLLY  SPRINGS,  MISSISSIPPI, 

Jan.  7th,  1863. 
HON.  E.  B.  WASHBURN,  M.C., 

Washington,  D.  C. 
DEAR  SIR: 

Learning  that  additional  Medical  Inspectors,  with  the 
rank  of  Lieut.  Col.,  are  to  be  appointed,  I  want  to  urge  the 
appointment  of  Surgeon  J.  H.  Brinton,  who  is  now  on  duty 
in  Washington,  having  been  selected  as  one  to  compile  the 
Medical  History  of  this  rebellion. 

I  have  selected  you  to  write  to  on  this  subject  because  you 
have  always  shown  such  willingness  to  befriend  me.  I  ac 
knowledge  the  many  obligations  I  am  under  to  you  and 
thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for  them.  I  will 
feel  further  obligation  if  you  can  give  this  matter  your  atten 
tion  and  support. 

355 


356  Appendix 

Dr.  Brinton  has  served  with  me  and  messed  with  me.  I 
know  him  well.  He  is  an  honor  to  his  profession  and  to  the 
service  both  for  his  moral  worth  and  attainments  in  and  out 
of  his  profession. 

Although  yet  but  a  young  man  you  will  find  that  Dr.  Brin 
ton  has  won  for  himself,  in  Philadelphia  where  he  resides,  a 
reputation  attained  by  but  few  in  the  country,  of  any  age, 
and  by  none  others  as  young  as  himself. 

I  am  now  feeling  great  anxiety  about  Vicksburg.  The 
last  news  from  there  was  favorable,  but  I  know  that  Kirby 
Smith  is  on  his  way  to  reinforce  Johnson.  My  last  advices 
from  there  were  to  the  3ist.  If  Banks  arrived  about  that 
time  all  is  well.  If  he  did  not  Sherman  has  had  a  hard  time 
of  it. 

I  could  not  reinforce  from  here  in  time,  and  too  much 
territory  would  be  exposed  by  doing  it  if  I  could. 

Yours  truly, 

U.  S.  GRANT. 


WEST  POINT,  N.  Y., 

June  nth,  1873. 
MY  DEAR  DOCTOR  : 

Learning  from  your  letter  of  the  Qth  inst.  that  you  are  a 
candidate  for  the  "Professorship  of  Anatomy"  in  the  Jeffer 
son  Medical  College  of  Pa.,  it  affords  me  pleasure  to  bear 
testimony  to  your  professional  skill  and  ability  as  demon 
strated,  in  the  field,  in  the  early  days  of  the  rebellion.  At 
Donelson  particularly  I  always  regarded  the  improvised  ar 
rangements  for  taking  care  of  the  wounded  as  due  to  your 
executive  ability  and  energy,  and  the  care  taken  of  them — 
and  success  in  bringing  so  many  badly  wounded  out  alive — 
as  very  largely  due  to  your  professional  skill. 

While  I  do  not  join  in  special  recommendation  of  one 
friend  over  another  for  any  position  over  which  I  exercise 
no  control,  yet  I  can  say,  and  do  say  unreservedly,  that  I  do 
not  doubt  but  that  if  the  coveted  professorship  should  fall  to 
you  it  will  be  filled  with  honor  and  credit  to  the  institution, 
and  that  the  directors  who  put  you  there  will  never  have 
reason  to  regret  the  choice. 


Appendix  357 

My  kindest  regards  to  Mrs.  B. — to  whose  friends  I  once 
gave  a  favorable  endorsement  of  you — and  the  children. 

Very  truly  yours, 

U.  S.  GRANT. 
DR.  J.  H.  BRINTON, 
Phila.,  Pa. 


CHICAGO,  ILLV 

June  i6th,  '73. 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  acknowledge  a  personal  ac 
quaintance  with  Dr.  Brinton  during  the  War  of  the  Rebel 
lion.  In  common  with  all  his  acquaintance,  I  can  bear  testi 
mony  to  his  high  professional  standing  and  the  zeal  with 
which  he  worked  in  the  cause  of  science. 

His  devotion  to  the  unfortunate  wounded  of  our  Armies 
will  always  be  gratefully  remembered  by  his  sincere  friend, 

P.  H.  SHERIDAN, 

Lt.  General  U.  S.  A. 


PHILADELPHIA,  PA., 

June  Qth,  1873. 
MY  DEAR  DOCTOR  : 

Learning  that  you  are  to  be  an  applicant  for  a  medical 
professorship,  I  thought  you  might  be  gratified  to  have  a 
note  from  me  saying  that  during  your  service  as  Surgeon  in 
the  Dept.  of  Missouri  under  my  command  I  formed  a  very 
high  opinion  of  your  ability  and  professional  qualification,  as 
evinced  by  my  appointment  of  you  a  chief  medical  director 
of  the  Army  in  the  field  during  the  campaign  against  Price 
in  1864,  the  duties  of  which,  as  all  others  under  my  com 
mand,  you  discharged  in  a  manner  that  commanded  my 
approbation  and  won  my  personal  esteem. 

Wishing  you  a  successful  and  happy  professional  career,  I 
remain  always  your  friend, 

W.   S.   ROSECRANS. 

DR.  J.  H.  BRINTON, 

Philadelphia,  Pa. 


INDEX 


Aigner,    Dr.,    101 

Annapolis,    investigation    of    gangrene 

at,  225 
Antietam,    arrival    at,    205 

the  wounded   at,    206 
Army  Medical  Museum,   inception   of, 
179 

orders  establishing,    180,    183 

assistant    curator    for,    185 

first   catalogue   of,    188 

whiskey   for,    191 

relief    from    duty    at,    312 
Army  Medical   School,   257 
Army    Registers,    224 
Asch,   M.  J.,  Assistant   Surgeon,   179 

Bache,    Dallas,    Surgeon,    327 

Bache,    Dr.    Thomas,    246 

Barnes,     Surgeon,    259,    309 

Belle    Plain,    268 

Belmont,    Battle    of,    etc.,    70 

Boker,   Dr.   Charles  S.,  sends  London 

"Punch,"    164 
library    cases    of,    185 
Brigade   Surgeons,    18,    171 
Brinton,    Colonel    Joseph,    272 
Bryant,   Surgeon  James,   229 
Buell,    General,    148 
Bull    Run,    21 
Burke,    Acting    Assistant    Surgeon,    at 

Cairo,    52 

Butler,    Benamin,    275 
Butler,   Major,   80 

Cabell,    General,    capture   of,    320 
Cairo,    arrival   at,   34 

organization   of,   54 

army  society  at,   98 

Christmas    at,    100 
Chancellorville,    secret   duty   at,    234 
Chase,    Secretary,    260 
Clymer,   Dr.^    170,    175 
Columbus,    Ohio,   trip  to,    55 
Confederate     Surgeons,     visit     to,     at 

Columbus,   O.,   58 
Coolidge,    Dr.,    197,    224 
Cooper,    Surgeon,    342 
Corcoran,    Mr.,    seizure   of   his   school 

house    for   Museum,    183 
Coxe,    Charles,    255,    270 
Coxe,    Brinton,     15,    32 

DaCosta,    Dr.   J.    M.,    31,    32 

Davis,  Surgeon,  at  Fort  Donelson,  126 

Dennis,     Dr.,    209 

Dienstl,  Dr.,  at  Vienna,  242 


Donaldson,  General,  at  Nashville,  335 
Douglas,    Mrs.    Stephen   A.,    263,    313 

Edward,   Surgeon  Lewis  A.,   179 

Fort    Donelson,    113 

casualties    at,    118 

incidents    of    the    siege,    122 

behavior   of  medical  officers  at,    122 
Fort    Henry,     113 
Frederick,    Md.,   ordered   to,   203 
Fredericksburg,    213 
Fremont,    General    J.    C.,    ordered    to 
report    to,    29 

description    of   headquarters   of,    30, 
32,    33 

Geary,   Colonel    John   W.,   23 
Gettysburg,   arrival  at,   240 

description    of,    etc.,    241 

sanitary    and    Christian    commission 
ers   at,    243 

relic    hunters    at,    243 
Girardeau,    Cape,    95 
Goldsmith,    Dr.    Middleton,    227 
Goodman,    Dr.    Ernest,    24 
Gordon,    Surgeon,    at    Belmont,    94 
Grant,    General    U.     S.,    first    impres 
sions    of,    36 

at   Cairo,   66 

expedition  with,   96 

sustained    by   at    Cairo,    104 

with   Grant  at    Fort   Henry,    115 

sword    presented    by,    132 

correspondence    of,     134 

humor    of,     140 

photograph    of,    146 

reprimand   of,    147 

sword  presented  at  Fort  Henry,  148 

kindness  of,    149 

abilities    of,     238 

on   the   art   of   war,    239 

created   Lieutenant   General,   261 

headquarters  at   City   Point,    277 
Grant,    Mrs.    U.    S.,    arrival    at   Wash 
ington,    266 

Halleck,    General,    47,    no 

rumor    of    "Dictatorship,"    201 
Hamilton,    Dr.    Frank   S.,   26 
Hammond,    Surgeon  General,   48 

character    of,    171 

at    Fortress    Monroe,    174 

kindness    of,    223 

injustice   to,    255 

anonymous    note    concerning,    309 


359 


360 


Index 


Hawkins,    General,   64,    104 

Hay,  John,  at  Metropolitan  Club,   260 

Hewitt,    Dr.    Henry    S.,    26 

at   Fort    Donelson,    ng 

sketch    of,    122 

poem    by,    122 
Hiller,    Captain,     128 

Jenny,    Captain,    331 
Johnston,    General   Joe,    60 

Kane,    Dr.    John    K.,    99 
Kelton,    Colonel,    165 

Lacy,   House,   221 
Lane^  Senator,   249 
Le    Conte,    Dr.,    177 
Letterman,     Surgeon    J.,    Medical    Di 
rector,    220 
Lincoln,    Abraham,    ridiculed,    19 

incident    of   the    flag,    20 

call    for    volunteers,    21 

New    Year's    reception,    225 

at    Acquia    Creek,    232 

insufficiency  of  personal  attendance, 
261 

incident  of  the   soldier,   265 
Louisville,     gangrene    at,    227 

detailed  to  in  1864,  307 
Lyman,  Dr.  George  H.,  26 
Lynch  Law  at  Mound  City,  45 

Marcy,    General,    177 
Marmaduke,    General,    capture  of,    320 
Meade,    General,    at    Belle    Plain,    273 
Medical    Director,    at    Cairo,    60 

at   Belmont,    93 

of    Department    of    the    Mississippi, 
156 

of     Transportation     at     Alexandria, 

at   Nashville,    325 
Meigs,    Dr.    John    Forsyth,    16 
Metropolitan    Club,    260 
Mills,    Madison,    315,    322,    324 
Mitchell,    S.    Weir,   Introduction  by,   9 
Mordecai,    Major,    345 
Mosby,    Captain   John    S.,    269 
Moss,    Dr.,     185,    214,    220 
Mound    City,    Mo.,    description    of,    40 

malaria    at,    49 

Muir,    Dr.,   of   British    army,   211,    250 
Murfreesboro,    230 

Mutter,   Prof.,   loss  of   his   surgical  in 
struments,    91 

McClellan,    Arthur,    28,    50,    177 
McClellan,     General     George     B.,     29, 

108 

curiosity    in    regard    to     Grant,     177 
reinstatement   of,   in    1862,    202 
inactivity    after    Antietam,    211 
incident    at    Metropolitan    Club,    310 
McClellan,   Dr.   John,   letter  to,   50 
McClernand,    Dr.,    at    Cairo,    102 

sketch    of,     103 
McCullough,    Secretary.    260 
McDougall,     Medical     Director,     156 
McKeever,    Major,    33 


McParlin,    Surgeon    General,    274 
McPherson,  Lieut.  Col.  James  B.,   130 

Nashville,    with    Grant    at,     139 

gangrene   at,   227 

description    of,    229 

the   wounded   at,    328 

various  details  at,    341 

medical   lectures  at,    345 

resignation   at,    346 
Nelson,   General,   at   Donelson,    139 
Nicolay,    Mr.,    at    Metropolitan    Club, 

260 

Norris,    Dr.   William   F.,    282 
Nurses,      Volunteer,      a     nuisance     at 
Mound   City,    43 

Ochschlager,    Surgeon,    305 
Orders,    Sept.    4,    1861,    29 

Sept.    1 6,    1 86 1,    38 
Otis,  George  A.,   Surgeon,   312 

Pancoast,    Prof.    Joseph,    23,    25 
Philadelphia,  return  to,  in   1862,   168 

visits  to,    in    1863,   252 

return    to,    350 
Pike,    Granny    White,    332 
Pillow,    General,    meeting    with,    57 
Pittsburg    Landing,     155 
Pleasanton,    General,    319 
Polk,    General,   meeting  with,    57,    157, 

196 

Polk,    Mrs.   James  K.,    331 
Porter,    Commodore,    106 
Porter,    Surgeon,    286 
Powhatan,     Fort,     176 
Price,   General,   320 

Rawlins,      General      John      A.,      with 
Grant    at    Cairo,    37 

incident    of    his    horse,     136 

protection    of    Grant,     136 

at    Belle    Plain,    272 
Rigor    mortis,    207 
Roberts,    Assistant   Surgeon,    251 
Rosecrans,  General,  meeting  with,  319 

sketch    of,    324 

St.    Louis,    description    of,    32 

arrival    at,    107,    155 

third   arrival   at,    316 

society    in,     322 

Savannah,    experiences    at,    152 
Schafhert,    assistance    at    museum,    184 
Sc.ofield,   General,   at    St.    Louis,    108 
Scott,    General    Winfield,    22 
Scull,    Major,    247,    288,    318,    322 
Sheridan,    General,    meeting   with,    162 

meeting   at    Murfreesboro,    230 

at   Winchester,    290 
Sidell,    J.    J.,    Surgeon.    251 
Simons,    Dr.,   reports  to,   at   Cairo,    34, 

35,    36,     ioi 

Smith,    General   A.    J.,    320 
Smith,    General    C.    F.,    at    Fort    Don 
elson,     120 

sketch    of,    122 


Index 


361 


Smith,    General    C.    F.,    incidents   of, 
129,    159,    160 

death    of,    159 

Smith,    General    Gustavus    W.,    60 
Spurs,    at    Battle   of    Belmont,    82 
Stanton,   Secretary,   174,    199,  255,  280 
Stone,     Assistant     Surgeon     at     Belle 

Plain,    269 

Stuart,    Edward   T.,    footnotes   by,   23 
Stuart,    George    H.,    277 
Sturgis,   General,    at    St.    Louis,    108 
Sumner,  Charles,   260 
Sumners,    Dr.,    201 
Surgical    History    of    Rebellion,    169 

plans    for,    172 

progress   of,    203 
Sweeny,  at  St.   Louis,    108 

Thomas,   Asst.    Adjutant   General,   334 

Thomson,    Mr.    Frank,    214 

Thomson,    Dr.   William,    21,    204,   232, 

251,    282 
Thorn,     Colonel,    at    St.     Louis,     108, 

165 

Thurston,    Surgeon,    at   Nashville,    230 
Totten,    Colonel,    at    St.    Louis,    108 


Van    Rensselaer,   J.   C.,   box    sent  by, 

48 

at    St.    Louis,    1 08 
Vroom,    Ex-Governor,   81 

Wallace,    Dr.    Ellersly,   241 
Wallace,    General    Lewis,   279 
Washington,    appearance    of,    in    1861, 
170 

return  to,  after  Fredericksburg,  222 

life  at,  in   1863-1864,  253,  254 

society  in    1864,   262 
Webster,    Dr.    Warren,    170 
Weit,   Dr.,   at  Monocacy,  204 
White,     Harrison,     death    of,    207 
Whitnell,    Surgeon,    at    Belmont,    94 
Wilderness    Campaign,    267 
Wilkes,    Commodore,    263 
Williams,    General    Seth,    177 
Winchester,    detailed    to,    291 

report    on    battle,    298 
Woods,    Colonel,   at   St.   Louis,    108 
Woodward,   J.    J.,    Assistant   Surgeon, 
179,    194,    251 

Yeatman,  James  E.,  at  St.  Louis,   109 


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